Betrayal!
by Mahala
Summary: They say a picture is worth a thousand words. The picture in front of him would indeed speak a thousand words to anyone else but to her he knew it had only spoken one. Betrayal. Rick centric story. Action/Adventure/HC/Angst. Rated T for occasional strong language and a violent scene in chapter 7. AU. OOC.
1. Prologue

Hi, Thanks for checking out my first story for Castle. I thought I would take a break from my usual fandom and have a go at something else. (I am also working a story for Crossing Lines.) I have to confess that I haven't seen all of this series and I haven't read many other Castle fics on this site so I apologise in advance for any character/story errors, OOCness etc. I have tried to stay as close as possible to the series but they have only just finished showing S5 here so I have had to base some of this on spoilers. All errors are mine and I don't own anything. Full disclaimer in my profile.

PS. I take no responsibility for any Firefly references that may have inadvertently slipped into this fic. Mahala ;-)

**Prologue**

The sleek black car drew up outside the classic brownstone building and Richard Castle heaved himself wearily from the back door, his tired eyes shielded from the late evening sun by dark shades. The driver immediately jumped out popping the trunk.

"Would you like me to bring these up for you Sir?" he asked as he pulled the suit carrier and suitcase from the trunk.

Rick smiled and shook his head. "No thanks Barney, I can manage."

"Right you are." The young man handed him the suit-carrier which Rick flung over his shoulder with a grunt. "Bet you're glad to be home."

"I am." His words were heartfelt and he was grateful that Barney didn't hang around. He wanted nothing more than to get home. He felt some of the exhaustion and anxiety lift a little at that word. Home. He had always found publicity tours to be the least favourite part of his life as a writer. In the early days when his new found fame had projected him into the limelight he had revelled in the seemingly never-ending rounds of book-signings, adoring fans, interviews and parties. But in recent years the trips had become more burdensome and taken him away from the one place he truly wanted to be. He had tried to keep them to a minimum but he had had to agree to a European tour, a gruelling twenty days including five European capitals and culminating in the festival at Cannes where a small independent film for which he'd written the screenplay had been shown to much acclaim.

As he made his way to the loft all he could think about was getting home to his family. The suit-carrier dug hard into his shoulder as he jiggled his carry-on and his suitcase. He fumbled for the keys and inserted them into the lock. The minute he was inside he dropped the bag and abandoned the suitcase kicking the door closed behind him with his foot.

"Hey. I'm home! Anyone here?" His voice echoed cheerily around the living room as he strode into the room desperately hoping that she hadn't been called out onto a case on a Saturday evening. However he hadn't taken more than a half a dozen paces when his steps faltered. Neatly stacked next to one another in the centre of the floor were her cases, with her coat and bag neatly folded on the top. Rick frowned wondering what was going on. His faltering steps ground to a halt as he came face to face with the three most important people in his life. Martha and Alexis were sitting abjectly at the dining room table. Kate was stood stiffly to one side. It only took one look to see that something was very, very wrong. Rick felt his stomach clench as a thousand and one awful scenarios flew through his mind. "What is it? What's hap...?"

He wasn't able to finish his phrase as Kate immediately stepped forward and raised her hand. Her words stung more than the palm that hit his cheek. "You bastard!"

Rick staggered back automatically raising his hand to his cheek. "Wh … at?" he stammered utterly stunned by her action.

Martha stood up brusquely, her chair scraping harshly against the floor. "How could you Richard? How could you?" Her words conveyed anger, indignation and moreover disappointment.

Rick's eyes travelled between the three women: his daughter sitting unmoving at the table,tears pooling in her eyes; his mother, her hands clenched at her side quivering with fury and finally Kate, the woman he loved staring angrily at him, a myriad of emotions flitting across her face. Her eyes burned with an emotion he had never seen before and never wished to see again.

"I don't understand. What's going on?"

"Did you think your little secret was safe?" Kate spat. Rick flinched at the venom in her voice. Never had she spoken to him like that. "Did you think that you could get away with it?" Her voice broke slightly.

Rick stepped forward, his face a mask of confusion. "Kate?"

She recoiled immediately. "Don't you touch me. Don't you dare touch me."

"Kate, please I don't understand," he pleaded.

"Just don't Dad! Don't!" Alexis jumped up from her chair and slammed a magazine down on the table. She jabbed a finger towards the cover. "How could you do this? To us? To Kate?"

Rick's head spun to face his daughter shocked by her tone and the tears now falling openly down her face. Slowly he took a step forward and looked down at the cover. He didn't need to read the words on the glossy periodical to tell him which magazine it was, the layout and garish colours announcing it to be one of the more salubrious celebrity gossip rags. As his eyes fell on the slightly grainy picture bound by a white frame and the word exclusive, his world shattered around him. He closed his eyes as if to block out the awful image. His stomach lurched and he felt the bile rise in his throat. For a moment the room seemed to spin and it was almost as though he couldn't breathe. He forced himself to open his eyes and take in a deep ragged breath. He turned to look at Kate. "It's not what you think," he whispered

Her voice was as cold as ice. "Not what I think? How can that not be what I think Castle?" He flinched at the way she spat his name at him as though it pained her to even utter it. "Are you trying to tell me that's not you?"

Her eyes bore into his desperately searching for an answer, begging him to deny it or at least provide some form of explanation but he didn't have one to give her. Words were his life. They had given him more things than he could ever have hoped for, helped him out of many a difficult situation, and admittedly, got him into trouble a few times too but at that moment, the one thing he could always rely on failed him. He opened his mouth but no words would come. His silence spoke volumes.

"Just tell me why?" The heartbreak in her voice and the utter wretchedness on her face cut him to the core. "Why?"

"Kate. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." The moment he uttered the word he knew it was the wrong one.

"Sorry?" she screamed. "Sorry?" Suddenly she broke eye contact and looked down at her hands. She yanked the ring off her finger and threw it at him. "I'm the one who's sorry. Sorry that I ever met you. Sorry that I ever fell for your filthy lies. I should have known better." Every word she flung at him hurt more than the stinging slap she had delivered earlier. Rick closed his eyes again no longer able to bear the pain he had caused her. It was only when he sensed movement that they sprang open and he realized that she had moved to grab her purse and coat and a suitcase.

"Kate?" He called after her. She looked back as though giving him one last chance but he knew there was nothing he could say. Kate Beckett then strode out of the loft, out of his home, out of his life.

He had no idea how long he had stood there just staring after her. He felt desolate, emptied as though with her departure the last ounce of his life-force had been drained from him. He was incapable of thought or movement.

"I'm going."

"Alexis? Wait!"

She turned to face him. "No Dad. I can't do this. I have to get back to college." The hurt in her face was too much for him to bear and he hung his head as his daughter scooped up a bag and left. He could feel his mother's eyes on him. He waited for her to leave too but she didn't move. Slowly he turned to face her.

"Were you drunk?" she asked in an acid tone. "On drugs?" He shook his head vehemently, his expression shocked that she could even think such a thing. "Then what? I thought you loved her."

"I do. I do love her. With all my heart!"

"Then why? For the love of God Richard why?" Martha Rodgers glared at him with an expression that he could only describe as desperation.

He so badly wanted to explain but he couldn't. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'm sorry."

Martha shrank visibly, her expression turning to one of shame in her only son. She turned away from him and slowly climbed the stairs, sorrow etched on her features and in every step. Rick waited until he heard the click of her door and he sank into the nearest chair, his legs no longer able to hold him. He leaned into the table and propped his head in his hands, his elbows either side of the magazine. He forced himself to look at it feeling sick to his stomach.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. The one before him could have been a cover for the worst kind of romantic fiction, a man and a woman in a passionate embrace framed by a window surrounded by lush foliage and clusters of fragrant bougainvillea. An intimate moment captured in an instant by the click of a shutter. The woman who had her back to the camera was reaching up to slip the shirt off his shoulders as the moonlight bathed them in a silvery hue. Her raven black hair hung in a single loose coil over his thick muscular arm wrapped tightly around her bare waist, her skin pale in comparison to his. His head was thrown back, his face raised to the full moon as though basking in it's glow. His eyes were closed as the woman's lips pressed against his chest. The picture in front of him would indeed speak a thousand words to anyone else but to her he knew it had only spoken one. Betrayal.

His hand clenched the picture crumpling it in his fist. "Oh God, what have I done? What have I done?"


	2. Chapter 1 - Change of Schedule

A/N : Thank you all so much for your 'follows' and 'favourites'. However you may wish to hold off on the 'favourites' until you reach the end of the story. You may not like where this story goes. I seem to have offended a few people by my, I admit, provocative opening so I feel it incumbent on me to add a word of warning. Let me make it clear that Castle is the hero of this action/adventure drama and it is through adversity that a hero proves his worth. If you are looking for the light-hearted Castle with the quick wit who hides behind the SWAT team in his writer's vest you will find very little of him here. This is the Rick we see in Target/Hunt. I will be taking him to a few dark places where he questions his actions and his motives and has to deal with the consequences. If you're okay with that read on. If you're not, no worries. There are plenty of other great Castle fics out there and I hope to explore some of them over the coming year. Your comments, both positive and negative, are always welcome and I try always to answer anyone who leaves a comment. I am happy to discuss writing style, plot points, character traits etc. but please remember this is fanfic. It allows us to take the characters and go where the show doesn't/can't/won't. To those who choose to read on, thank you.

**Chapter 1 – Schedule Change**

**Three weeks earlier.**

"RICK!" Kate squealed as he grabbed her from behind. "Stop that!" she admonished twisting in his arms and pushing him away. "You are going to miss your flight. Now FOCUS!"

He lunged for her again and succeeded in getting her in a firm bear hug. "I'll get the next one," he whispered in a husky tone as he planted a row of small kisses in the crook of her neck.

"RICK!" She looked up into his eyes as he raised his head and smiled down at her with big puppy dog eyes. She took pity on him and hugged him back. "I'm going to miss you."

"And I'm going to miss you." He pressed his lips to hers and for a moment she responded before poking him sharply in his side. "Ow!" His bottom lip curled and he pouted prettily.

"Rick! Seriously. The car will be here soon. Have you got everything? Passport?" He released her reluctantly and patted his pocket reassuringly. "Schedule?" Rick glared at the offending package of papers that Gina had provided and which now lurked on the bed. He scooped it up and pushed it into his carry-on with his laptop. "And make sure you read it on the plane? Don't want you getting lost and ending up in Caen instead of Cannes," she chided.

"Huh?"

Kate rolled her eyes and shook her head just as the doorbell rang. Rick sighed. "That'll be your car. Come on." Kate grabbed his case.

Rick scooped up his carry-on and his suit-carrier following her forlornly out of the bedroom. They abandoned the bags to the driver and Rick hung back for a couple of minutes. He pulled Kate into his arms to give her one final kiss. Eventually he had to break away. "I'll try and call but with the schedule and the time differences ..."

Kate put a finger to his lips. "I know. Be careful and try to stay out of trouble." Rick feigned a wide-eyed innocent look that made her giggle. "I love you."

"I love you too."

.

He hadn't paid much attention to the drive out to the airport, his mind occupied with how he was going to stand three weeks away from Kate not to mention how he was going to survive the ridiculously tight schedule that Gina had set up with their European partners. He had only had the courage to glance at the first page outlining the London stage of his trip which included two book-signings, three interviews and a gala dinner at which he was supposed to give the after-dinner speech. The latter had been underlined and high-lighted in yellow. She had helpfully added a bright green post with the words. "Write a speech BEFORE you get there!" That had been enough to make him close the file and ignore it till it was time to leave. He figured there would be enough time on the flight.

Rick glanced out of the window as they passed a sign indicating the way to international departures. Rick leaned forward to speak to the driver. "Excuse me, but didn't we just pass the turn-off?" The driver, who Rick didn't recognize as one of the usual drivers from the car service, glanced in the rear-view mirror and stretched his lips into a smile. A professional smile.

"No worries Sir. It's a little busy up there today. I'm just taking a little detour."

Rick smiled and nodded, returning his thoughts to the schedule and the damned speech. After several more minutes Rick felt the car slowing. Looking around once more, he was surprised to see that he was in an area of the airport he didn't recognize. The car drove down a plain unmarked asphalt strip that resembled a taxi-lane. Way off to his right, Rick could see the aircraft lining up up ready for take-off. He shifted position to look out of the wind-shield. They appeared to be heading towards a large hangar.

"Hey what's going on? Where are you going?"

Again the driver smiled the professional smile, one that conveyed no human emotion. "No worries, Mr Castle. We're almost there."

"But my flight is supposed to be leaving from ..."

"No worries Sir." The driver interrupted. "Slight change of schedule."

Castle felt a knot of apprehension form in his stomach. He watched as the car headed towards the hangar. They were only a short distance away when the huge doors moved apart as if expecting them. The car rolled in through the gap and the doors closed behind them. He twisted around in his seat to watch the huge doors being closed by two burly men in black suits. The apprehension turned into nervousness, an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. He flipped his head back round to spy a smart private jet with a set of stairs leading up to the door. Two more men in dark suits stood sentry-like at the bottom of the stairs. As soon as they drew to a stop one of the men opened his door while the the second went straight to the trunk to pull out his luggage and carry them onto the jet.

"This way please Mr Castle." The suit spoke in a polite but monotone voice. Rick looked him up and down. His features indicated an Asian heritage. He was solidly built, wore dark glasses and had an ear-piece with a curly wire that disappeared into his collar. There was also a tell-tale bulge under his jacket. Looking around he spied the other two men now stood to attention watching him. He could see their earpieces too. Rick swallowed. _If this is a kidnapping, it was certainly one of the more civilized kind._

Stepping cautiously out of the car he was escorted up the stairs and onto the plane. He looked around. _Very civilized._ The interior could only be described as plush. Four sets of two wide leather seats stood either side of the cabin with polished wooden tables, brass lamps and thick carpets. Beyond the seats was a small bar to the right and what Rick assumed was the restroom to the left. Everything was cream, brown and gold. Just beyond the bar a curtain swished to one side and a very attractive blond stepped out. She was petite with round eyes that gave her an innocent look and she was smartly dressed in a dark blue skirt and white blouse. Rick was about to say that he thought that they had made some kind of mistake when she smiled broadly.

"Good evening Mr Castle. Welcome aboard." She gestured with a hand to one of the seats on his right. "Please sit. Would you care for something to drink? Champagne?"

Rick knew he was gawking. "Very civilized," he muttered to himself. As he glanced behind him the imperturbable face of the suit stared at him. _Well, _a_lmost_. He sat. The flight attendant smiled and without waiting for an answer to her question wandered off to the bar and started to prepare tray of drinks.

"Seatbelt," grunted the suit ominously. Rick gulped and complied. The suit seated himself on the seat opposite on the other side of the plane and did up his seat-belt without taking his eyes off Rick.

"You know, I'm supposed to be on a flight to London..." Rick began.

"Please don't concern yourself Mr Castle. The airline has been informed of your change of plans and I assure you we will not unduly perturb your schedule." Rick turned around to see a short wiry man with silver-framed glasses wearing a light grey suit, white shirt and red tie. His grey hair was thinning giving Rick the impression of a pen-pushing accountant in his late fifties. The man smiled. A professional smile. He slid into the seat opposite Rick placing a large briefcase on the floor beside him and did up his seatbelt. Before Castle could ask what was going on, the flight attendant reappeared and served drinks, a glass of champagne for himself and a bottle of water for his companion. She also placed several dishes of snacks in front of him. "Thank you Candy. Would you be so kind to serve dinner as soon as we're in the air?" He glanced at Rick as though seeking his approval. "I hope steak is all right? Medium rare?" Rick nodded. "And please tell the captain that we are ready for take-off." Candy smiled, nodded and headed to the cockpit.

Rick was stunned. _Private jet. Champagne. Dinner. Very civilized. _Almost immediately the engines burst into life and Candy reappeared to secure the aircraft. Rick glanced around to see if anyone else was joining them but it appeared not. The other suits had disappeared as had the car that brought him. He glanced out of the windows to see the hangar doors opening once more, wider this time to allow the plane to leave the hangar.

Candy stopped by them. "We should be in the air in fifteen minutes and in London slightly ahead of Mr Castle's schedule. His hotel has been informed of an earlier arrival."

"Excellent Candy. Thank you."

Candy smiled and disappeared through the curtain once more, presumably to prepare dinner. Rick watched her leave and then turned to his mysterious companion.

"What is going on? Who are you? Am I being … abducted?"

The man smiled, a little more genuinely this time and reached into his briefcase extracting a thin buff folder with a US crest embossed on the front. He flipped it open and twisted it to face Rick placing a heavy gold pen on top of it. "If you would be so kind to sign this document I will happily answer all your questions Mr Castle."

Rick glanced at the document. His eyes widened as he scanned the legalese. It was similar to a document he had signed before when researching one of his Derrick Storm novels. It was a non-disclosure agreement. The bottom line was that he could not tell anyone else anything that was discussed between them on pain of prosecution and imprisonment, the kind of imprisonment where no one knew where you where and where they conveniently lost the key. As soon as he set eyes on the document he knew who the men were. "So you guys are with courteous independent abductions?" he quipped, grinning at his two companions. Neither man smiled. The suit glared at him. "Joke," he suggested tentatively.

The man opposite him offered a thin lipped smile. "We don't have a sense of humour Mr Castle. We're the CIA."

.


	3. Chapter 2 - Down to business

A/N : Many thanks for the reviews, follows and pm's. My special thanks to my guest reviewers to whom I cannot respond individually. I would if I could. Your support is very much appreciated.

**Chapter 2 – Down to business  
**

"You can call me Clay and this is Cho. Thank you for your cooperation Mr Castle." Clay scooped up the documents that Castle had signed. "I apologise for interrupting your planned arrangements Mr Castle but we find ourselves in a rather delicate situation and well, we're having to ..." He paused searching for the appropriate words. "... think outside of the box as they say." He broke off as the captain announced they would be taking off shortly. His voice was replaced by Candy's as she went through the requisite safety announcements.

Rick had had dealings with the CIA before. In fact, they had been more than accommodating when he had researched the third book in the series. He reached for his glass of champagne wondering why they would change his mode of transport given that his destination was still London. He sipped tentatively at the pale liquid appreciating the delicate aroma, a little voice at the back of his head wishing that Kate could be there to share this with him rather than the two dour agents. He could feel the alcohol gently beginning to warm his stomach. He should have known that asking a favour of the spooks would come back to bite him in the ass one day. He waited as they taxied and took off.

Once they were airborne and Candy reappeared to make preparations behind the bar. Clay smiled again. The professional smile. "Now to business." Once more he fished into his briefcase and pulled out another buff coloured folder. He opened and extracted a photograph twisting it so Castle could see.

Rick peered at the photograph. It had clearly been taken by a zoom lens. The man in the picture was looking off into the distance. He had a very thin layer of fine iron grey hair, an angular face and dark narrow slits for eyes. The most singular feature of his face was his thin lips which gave him a menacing air. Castle imagined he could be a man of great cruelty.

"Grigori Noronov," Clay announced. "Of dubious origin. Russian with some Mongolian ties. He flies very much under the radar. He makes his fortune from selling weapons and he isn't fussy what he sells or to whom." Sensing there was more Castle wisely chose to remain silent and took another sip of the champagne. He had a feeling he was going to be needing it. "We have, at present, identified a terrorist cell operating within the United States. It is our belief that they are plotting an attack on our country and we believe that they will procure their weapon of choice from Grigori Noronov."

Castle nodded and replaced the glass on the smooth polished surface of the table between them. "Why are you telling me this?"

Clay leaned back in his seat and folded his hands. "Do you love your country Mr Castle?"

Rick was taken aback. "Huh?"

"Are you a patriot Mr Castle?"

Rick was flummoxed for a moment. "Yes … yes of course."

"Don't you want to protect your daughter and your mother and, if I may be so bold, your … very beautiful fiancée?"

Risk's eyes widened. Other than their close circle of friends no one knew about their engagement. Clearly Clay had done his research. He even knew how he liked his steaks. "Yes of course but I still don't see what this has to do with me?"

"It is imperative that we prevent this terrorist group from obtaining weapons from Grigori Noronov." Castle was about to interrupt but Clay held up his hand. "We have to find out our what Noronov is planning to sell, how he is planning to get it into the country and identify the location for the rendezvous with the terrorist cell. If we do that we can catch them all in one fell swoop."

Clearly this was building up to something and that something was making Castle very nervous indeed. "And what exactly is it that you want from me?"

Clay smiled that smile once more. "It is very simple Mr Castle. I want you to do what you do best."

Rick laughed and reached for his champagne. "You want me to write a book?"

Clay chuckled as Rick, not really wanting to hear what was coming next, took a slighter larger mouthful of champagne than he intended. "No Mr Castle. We want you to seduce a beautiful woman." Champagne spilled as Castle banged the glass down on the table and slapped a hand over his mouth to prevent it spraying everywhere. He coughed and spluttered. At a sign from Clay Candy reappeared and handed him a white linen napkin. She scooped up his glass and reappeared a few minutes later to wipe the table and place a glass of water in front of him. She went away once more and came back with a second glass of champagne. She favoured Castle with a dazzling smile.

It took a few minutes for him to recover. Of all the things that he had expected that had been the last on his list. Having cleared his throat not to mention his mind. "Let me get this straight. You … " He waved a hand around the plane, his face a mask of incredulity. "... change my flight schedule and provide all this because you want me to seduce some woman?" He almost laughed out loud.

Clay ignored him. When he spoke his voice was hard. "What you need to realize is that there is an imminent threat to the United States Mr Castle. One that could cause a significant loss of life and have major repercussions on our nation if it were to succeed. We have to prevent it at all costs." He pulled another picture from the folder and placed it next to the photograph of Noronov. "This is Elena Morovski, Noronov's mistress." Castle glanced at the picture. It was a formal pose of a woman in a deep blue evening gown, an elegant choker of beads around her neck. She had raven black hair coiled high on her head, gentle sloping shoulders and a beautiful hourglass figure. Her high cheekbones were crowned with a pair of deep brown eyes. Castle couldn't help but admire her. She was beautiful. "This is the woman who is key to this endeavour. This is the woman you are to seduce."

"I can't do that. You do realize that I am engaged to be married?"

"Whether you are engaged or married or single is irrelevant. We need you to seduce this woman and obtain the information that will prevent a major terrorist attack on US soil."

Rick ran a hand through his hair. "Why me?"

Clay leaned forward resting his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers. "Because you are Richard Castle, famous mystery writer, playboy millionaire. You can open doors and go places that we cannot. And Elena Morovski is one of your most ardent fans."

.

Their conversation was interrupted while Candy appeared laying out perfectly pressed linen cloths and tableware. To be honest Castle was glad of the interruption to try and take in what he had be told. Candy then proceeded to serve dinner, a three course meal consisting of delicate deep-fried strips of fish with a light creamy sauce followed by a perfectly cooked steak at which point Rick's champagne was replaced with a rich Cabernet Sauvignon. Fresh fruit followed served with coffee. Rick was grateful for the coffee and shook his head at the offer of cognac. All the while Clay gave him background on the mission.

It seemed, on the surface, relatively straightforward. Nothing would occur till after the première of the film at Cannes. Afterwards Rick would attend the formal cocktail with the stars and makers of the film but would make his apologies and leave early to attend a rather exclusive party at a private residence on the waterfront in Cannes to which they had managed to procure him an invite. Elena Morovski would be at this party as would a member of the British Consulate, a Roger Darwin. Darwin would ensure that Castle and Morovski would be introduced. From there it would be up to Castle. All he had to do was ensure that Elena invited him over to Noronov's villa, a veritable fortress built into the hillside overlooking the bay with a single well guarded entrance.

"Why would she do that? I mean she's Noronov's mistress. She's hardly going to invite me if Noronov is there?"

Clay shook his head. "Noronov won't be. Only Elena is there. Our informant tells us that Noronov has business planned in Istanbul. Given that he travels a lot he allows Elena … how shall I put it … free reign to entertain when he's not there. Discretely of course. So there will only be Elena plus the standard six man security detail and the housekeeper. There are two other staff but they only work during the day."

Rick almost choked on his coffee. "Six man security detail?" His imagination ran riot as he envisaged being pummelled to a pulp by six beefy Russians.

Clay waved a dismissive hand. "Nothing to worry about, there will only ever be three on duty at any one time and Cho here is going to train you to take care of them."

"Only three. I feel so much better!" Castle muttered under his breath as he glanced over at Cho who had remained silent stoically eating his way through the meal and sipping at bottled water. In fact, Rick noticed he was the only one who had been drinking and he was beginning to regret it. "Train me?"

"Yes it is unfortunate that we haven't had more time to prepare but we have been over your schedule ..." At this point another buff folder made it's appearance "...and we have adjusted it to fit in with our requirements. This is the adjusted schedule and we have taken the liberty of writing a speech for you for the gala dinner in London. At least that way we can make the most of the time in between." Castle was speechless. The schedule had barely left him time to sleep. He couldn't imagine how they could possibly squeeze any more time in. Looking on the bright side at least he didn't have to write a damned speech. "So Mr Castle, perhaps it would be wise to get a few hour's sleep before we embark on your first lesson."

Rick drained the last of his coffee. "I wasn't under the impression that I actually had agreed to help you," he offered carefully.

Clay tutted. "Come now Mr Castle. We both know that that isn't true. This is your chance to do the right thing. To be the hero from one of your books. Your country needs you, your family needs you ..." His face softened suddenly. "... and besides we're the CIA. We don't take no for an answer."

_Great, now he gets a sense of humour!_

.


	4. Chapter 3 - The Red Carpet

A/N : Many thanks for the reviews, follows and pm's. My special thanks to my guest reviewers to whom I cannot respond individually. I would if I could. Your support is very much appreciated.

**Chapter 3 – The Red Carpet**

Kate opened the door to the loft. A smile sprang to her face as she stepped inside. It was good to be home. Home. She could still hardly believe this was now her home. She sniffed. Something was cooking. Something delicious, something that smelled like one of Castle's. For a moment her heart leapt. _He couldn't have come home early could he?_ She shook herself telling herself that he wouldn't have missed the opening night at Cannes and couldn't possibly have made it back. She glanced at the clock doing a quick calculation. In fact it was late at night there. He was probably still partying. Her heart ached. He'd been gone almost three weeks and she had missed him more than she wanted to admit but it was only another twenty-fours before he'd be back. Kate hung her coat in the closet and made her way to the kitchen where Martha was taking something out of the oven. She noticed the table was already set for three.

"Kate darling, there you are." Martha danced around the kitchen looking for a space to put her dish.

"Hey Kate," Kate glanced towards the living room where Alexis was fiddling with the TV remote.

"Hey Alexis. Martha. What are you two cooking up?"

Martha placed the large tray on the counter and waved a dismissive hand. "Not me darling, this is one of Richard's lasagna's I purloined from the freezer." They both shared a smile knowing that Rick had spent a day cooking some of his signature dishes and stashing them in the freezer for them. "Alexis is trying to find a report on Cannes. Apparently the early reviews are fantastic. As I knew they would be." Her hands flew through the air as her face told of her pride in her son. Kate grinned. "Wine?"

Kate smiled. "Yes please."

"Long day?"

"Oh not too bad. Lot of paperwork. Court prep. Annual reviews, that kind of thing."

"Ooo!" squealed Alexis from the other side of the room. "Got it." Kate and Martha grabbed their glasses and ran over to the television as Alexis turned up the sound.

A bubbly presenter in a bright red dress, her blond hair flowing softly in the breeze was pictured by the waterfront. The lights of Cannes sparkled brightly in the background and a multitude of motor yachts bobbed up and down in the bright moonlight. An insert in the top of the screen showed the stars of the film arriving on the red carpet. _"...the stars of tonight's opening film Beyond Serenity. Earlier today I had the opportunity to meet with the man who wrote the screenplay. None other than the author who gave us Derrick Storm and Nikki Heat, Richard Castle."_ The picture cut to the same scene but in bright sunlight.

"It's Dad." Alexis bobbed up and down excitedly as the camera showed the presenter and Castle seated in two deck chairs on a wooden stage in the bright sunshine. Groups of paparazzi and excited fans lined the boardwalk behind them shouting and waving. A security guard with Asian features wearing dark glasses stood incongruously in front of the crowd.

"_Now this is something of a departure for you isn't it? I do hope you're not going to be abandoning Nikki for too long? I'm such a huge fan."_ The presenter asked leaning seductively towards him. The camera cut to Castle. Kate's stomach contracted a little. He was dressed in dark blue pants and a crisp white shirt open at the neck that showed off his tanned skin to perfection.

He smiled politely and answered that it was a one-off, an interesting departure from his usual line of work but he would definitely not be abandoning Nikki. _"I'm very invested in the future of Nikki Heat,"_ he added cryptically. Martha and Alexis exchanged glances as Kate smiled and blushed. Suddenly she frowned and gave a little grunt of dissatisfaction. On the TV the bubbly blond had asked another question and was laughing at Castle's answer. She was leaning in towards him showing an indecent amount of cleavage and had placed her hand on his knee. Martha and Alexis smirked as Kate stared daggers at the woman. Watching the interview it was clear that woman was flirting with him but Castle seemed oblivious. Although he smiled and answered her questions he didn't seem his usual self. Kate clearly thought so too judging by the frown on her face.

"He looks tired," declared Alexis.

"I'm not surprised." Martha took on a dramatic pose. "That schedule was ridiculous! I don't know what Gina was thinking ..." She sighed heavily. "...but I suppose it was his own fault. He insisted that Gina made it as short as possible." She glanced at the television to see the presenter addressing the crowd and thanking Richard and making him promise to give his reactions after the screening. There was a round of rapturous applause and Rick smiled and waved. The sun glinted off the ring on his hand.

Martha peered the screen. "That's odd," she muttered. Kate and Alexis turned to look at her questioningly. "He hates wearing jewellery." They immediately turned back to the screen but the image had already cut back to the studio and the anchor was talking about reactions to the film. He touched his ear piece and smiled.

"_...and now we can go back live to Cannes where our reporter Jane Rivers is attending the party with the cast and crew of Beyond Serenity."_

The bubbly blond reappeared, a microphone close to her lips as she spoke loudly trying to make herself heard over the din created by the hundreds of people in the grand ballroom. Around her people laughed and drank champagne. Waiters in white shirts and gold waistcoats glided effortlessly in and out offering canapés. In the background a news crew from the French evening news were interviewing the two main stars. The bubbly blond snagged one of the other stars for a few words congratulating him on his performance and the reactions to the film. However, Martha could tell she was itching to get her turn in with the two leads. The presenter's sharp blue eyes widening slightly as she spotted someone in the background and she brought her interview to a swift end. "One of aspects of the film that has most impressed the critics is the clever unfolding of the story," she gushed. "And I have just spotted the man who wrote the screenplay, Richard Castle. Let's see if we can catch him." The camera turned away panning across the crowded room. The image wobbled for a moment and then focussed on Castle, now dressed in a tuxedo, who was having his picture taken shaking hands with an elderly man.

As they parted the presenter called out but Castle was distracted by another man in a dark suit. Kate frowned recognizing him from the earlier clip as the heavy set Asian bodyguard. The man leaned in and whispered something in Castle's ear. The presenter called out again as the camera zoomed in. For a brief second Castle turned towards the camera. Despite the golden hue cast by the myriad of candelabra and chandeliers illuminating the room his face looked ashen. His eyes bore the strangest expression as they looked directly into the camera.

Taken aback, the three women watching sat a little straighter peering closely at the screen little frowns creasing their foreheads. The Asian man put his hand on Richard's arm causing him to abruptly turn away and leave the room accompanied by the man. As he turned the camera caught the small curling cord that ran from his earpiece into his collar. The presenter's 'Oh' was audible. However she was quickly distracted as she spotted the director of the movie and both cameraman and presenter moved to intercept him.

Alexis turned down the sound before twisting round to look at Kate and her grandmother whose expressions both showed their surprise at the images they had just seen. "Do you think he's all right?"

Kate shook her head, a little shocked by the fleeting glimpse of her fiancé. "I don't know." A sudden thought struck her. "Does he usually have a bodyguard?"

Martha looked incredulous. "No. Oh you don't think..."

Kate smiled interrupting her. "No. No of course not. He's probably just security. Maybe Rick's got another interview already lined up."

"You don't think he's ill do you?" asked Alexis looking slightly panicked as she recalled her father's pale features and drawn look.

"Oh I'm sure it's nothing. He's probably just a little tired. It's been a long tour," Kate assured her. "Why don't we get dinner before that lasagne turns cold?" Alexis nodded and switched off the television.

"Kate?" Martha touched her sleeve. "Why don't you call him?" she asked quietly. Kate was about to protest but the tormented expression on Rick's face sprang unbidden to her mind and she nodded. While Martha headed for the kitchen, Kate pulled out her phone and dialled his number. There was a delay and then it went straight to voice-mail, his rich deep baritone telling her to leave a message. She left a message ending with a plea to call her if he could and headed to dinner.

The meal was relaxed and the three women chatted about the film as Alexis read out reactions on Twitter and Facebook from her cell phone. They were on the whole positive and praised both the casting and the screenplay. Kate tried not to look at her phone. As Martha brought out dessert she announced that she had pre-ordered all the entertainment reviews and celebrity magazines to be delivered the next day. "I just love all the gossip," she confessed making the girls laugh.

After they cleared away Kate excused herself and went for a shower. She propped her phone where she could see the screen in case Rick should call and stood revelling in the stream of soothing water. She smiled to herself as she remembered the first shower they had taken together and she wished with all her heart that he was with her at that moment. Despite the food and wine and the soothing flow of water down her back she couldn't shake off that last image of Castle staring out at her from the screen. It was almost as if he had been looking directly at her and the expression on his face was one she had never seen before, a mixture of fear and pain and something else. Something unexpected.

Regret.

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	5. Chapter 4 - Showtime!

A/N: Once again thank you for the 'follows' and 'favorites'. Thank you to those who took the time to leave a comment. Guests, I would reply individually if I could. Before you read on a few thoughts for you to ponder: 1. I am not justifying anything. I have taken a fictional character (admittedly not my own) and put in him a fictional situation and written one possible course of action for him. I do not condone his actions nor do I condemn them. 2. I chose Betrayal as the title of this story for all it's meanings not just the act of infidelity. There are various acts of betrayal in this story committed by various characters. 3. I believe that sex is irrelevant here – the notion of betrayal (in the sense of infidelity or cheating if you prefer) occurs a long time before the physical act of sex. In fact I believe it is possible to betray one's partner in life without any physical contact with another person. Psychologists call this emotional betrayal or emotional infidelity. This is just one of the themes that I am writing about here.

Finally I realize I have made an enormous mistake in choosing to write an 'imperfect' Rick and Kate and not making that clear from the beginning of the story. I had assumed that I would be allowed a little more flexibility with the characters and I had not realized how offended many people would be and for that I am truly sorry.

For those who are happy for me to continue taking a few risks with the characters, here's part one of what really happened in Cannes.

**Chapter 4 – Showtime**

As Kate tried to get to sleep wrapped in one of Rick's tee-shirts, her arms tight around his pillow and her phone lying on the mattress beside her, another Kate was stomping back and forth, a cigarette dangling from her lips. Her deadline was fast approaching and her three editors were waiting for her go desperate to get the magazine to print and desperate to get home to their own beds. Kate blew out a steady stream of smoke but none of them would ever have dared remind her of the strict no smoking policy. She glared at the layout. "Move the Angelina story to page five. Anything from Darius?"

Freddy, an overweight man in late thirties though looking like he was in his forties spoke up. "Just the usual Red Carpet stuff … we've put together a selection for the centre fold."

Kate Bradshaw cut him off. "Any of it any good?"

Freddy shuffled knowing what she meant. "There's one of Claudia falling out of her dress – we could use it but she might sue."

Kate took a long draw on the cigarette and blew smoke out of her nostrils. Freddy recoiled. Now he knew why they called her the dragon. "Probably did it as a publicity stunt. Use it. The lawyers can sort out the mess," she snapped. Her phone rang. She arched an eyebrow as she spied the caller ID. She clawed it up from the table. "What you want Slime? It had better be good." As she listened her eyebrows shot up. "Really? Did you use a zoom?" She took the cigarette from her mouth. "Can you tell it's him? Do we know the woman? … No? … Doesn't really matter." Her eyes narrowed and she stubbed out the cigarette. "Send them now!" she ordered. "Do it. I'll pay the usual and a bonus if they're as good as you claim." She dumped the phone and turned to the computer stabbing at the keys with her red painted talons.

Curious, Freddy and the others crowded around the screen to see what their favourite piranha paparazzi had come up with. Kate Bradshaw tapped her foot irritably as she waited for the files to load. They all waited with bated breath as the blue bar moved across the screen. Finally the download was complete. Kate Bradshaw tapped at the screen and opened the first file. The picture opened full screen. Her jaw dropped. He scrolled through the pictures. "Oh my … now that is hot!" She grabbed at the phone. "Slime your just earned your bonus." The phone was slammed onto the desk as Kate screamed. "Hold the front page and clear the centrefold! Breaking News people!"

.

Four thousand miles away the warm Riviera breeze blew in through the open window bringing with it the delicate perfume of bougainvillea and star jasmine. The couple laid among the silken sheets in the moonlit room were oblivious to chirrups of the cicadas and the gentle sounds of the oceans as the sounds of the passion broke the nightly quiet.

"Oh Richard … oh yes!" The woman moaned scraping her perfectly manicured nails down his back. "Oh … yes … yes ..." Her voice faded away.

Rick pushed himself up onto his elbows and stared down at his 'lover'. "Elena?" She made a quiet mewling sound, a faint smile on her lips. "Elena?" He tapped her face but she didn't move. Richard Castle sprang from the bed like it had burnt him. "Jeez … took long enough," he muttered to himself thinking that it had seemed a helluva lot longer than ten minutes. He stood and stared down at the almost naked woman entangled in the silk sheets, his breathing overly loud to his own ears. He ran his hands over his face shuddering as though to wipe her from his skin. He never thought that he would have to go as far as this. Turning his back, he sat on the edge of the bed his hands on his knees trying to calm the hammering of his heart and the sick feeling in his stomach. As he looked at the ring on his right hand, Cho's words came back to him.

"_Make sure you leave no trace."_ Lesson five. How to drug a woman's champagne.

He took a deep breath and stood. He retrieved his shirt from the floor and quickly slipped it on tucking it into his pants. He would have given anything for a shower but he couldn't risk the guards hearing it. Besides he didn't have the time. He needed to get what he had come for and get out. Quickly he slipped on his shoes and crossed the room to the table that stood in front of the open window and grabbed the glass that Elena had drunk from. He ran to the bathroom and carefully washed it out making sure not to disturb the imprint left by her lipstick. He returned it to the table and slopped some more champagne in it. Then he turned to the bed. He crossed to her side and pulled up the sheets to cover her then he pushed his hands under the sheets and carefully removed her underwear dropping the damp piece of lace onto the floor.

"I'm sorry Elena," he muttered as feelings of guilt threatened to overwhelm him. To his surprise he had found that he had enjoyed her company more than he had expected though she was a little predatory for his tastes. In fact the whole 'seduce the woman' thing had gone smoother than they had planned. Half of him had been hoping that she wouldn't bite and the whole thing would be called off but in fact the evening had gone better than they could have hoped. Clay's profilers had really done their homework. Their evaluation of Elena was spot on. She loved glamour, the high life, parties, sophisticated men and sex. Combine all that with her favourite author and the game was over before it had started. Castle hadn't been at the party for more than five minutes when she caught his eye across the room. In the end he hadn't even needed Darwin's introduction.

_The high-ceilinged room spoke of opulence and wealth. Everything was gold and crystal and mirrors. Clusters of people in evening dress stood around chatting as a quartet played quietly in the background. Rick had just accepted a glass of champagne and was taking in his surroundings when he spotted Elena Marovski at the other side of the room. As their eyes met he smiled and raised his glass inclining his head just a fraction. She was wearing a tight fitting sleeveless black satin dress that had a long length of silk rising from the centre of the bodice to cascade over one shoulder. Her hair was pulled tight up on top of her head with a long thick tress loosely coiling down her back. As she glided across the room towards him Rick had the impression of a sleek black panther stalking it's prey._

_He took a deep breath and put on his best smile. Here goes. "Good Evening!"_

"_Good evening, Mr Castle," she purred holding out a hand. She had a deep smooth voice and spoke with a hint of an accent giving it an exotic quality._

_Rick raised her hand and brushed it with his lips never taking his eyes off hers. "You have me at a disadvantage. You know my name but I don't know yours."_

_She smiled. "Elena."_

"_Elena, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman."_

If there was one thing that Richard Castle knew how to do, it was how to be charming. He had uttered only twenty-five words but by the end of them he somehow knew that getting in Noronov's villa wouldn't be a problem. They had spent the best part of the evening together chatting, getting to know one another. She had confessed her love for his books and he had promised to sign her collection and even dedicate one to her. If Kate Beckett hadn't been in his life, he could imagine having fun with Elena but no more than that. She was charming, eloquent, well-read and just a little exotic with her accented English but one thing was very clear. She was a nymphomaniac and she had one thing on her mind. After they'd finished chatting to some artist and his muse, she had tugged at his sleeve and suggested non too subtly that they move on.

As they left Castle had spied Cho telling Elena that the CIA man was his driver. Castle smiled at Cho and told him that he wouldn't be needing him and that he'd call when he did. In fact he knew that Cho would be keeping an eye on him from a discrete distance. He then got into Elena's car and they had driven back to Noronov's villa. He had spent the drive in a state of nervous anticipation fiddling with the ring on his finger. He hated wearing jewellery but the ring contained the drug that was necessary to knock Elena out. He only hoped he could persuade her to drink something. But like the rest of the evening that didn't turn out to be a problem either. No sooner had they reached her apartments than she ordered champagne and it had been a cinch to slip the fine grains of white powder into her drink.

And now she laying sleeping peacefully among the crumpled silk sheets. Castle stood with his ear to the door and waited till the guard completed his round, on the hour, every hour just as Cho had told him. He gave him a good ten minutes then donned a pair of fine blue surgical gloves that had been hidden in his top pocket. Then he pulled up his left sleeve and looked at the new watch he was wearing. The boy in him grinned with pleasure. Here he was in the middle of the night in bad guy's house wearing a tuxedo with a host of spy gadgets in his pockets and a naked woman in the bed behind him. For one brief second Richard Castle novelist and child at heart revelled in it but then the reality of his situation hit him. This wasn't a book or a movie, it was real and he was about to break into the safe of Grigori Noronov, one of the most ruthless arms dealers on the planet in a house that was crawling with armed guards and riddled with security devices. _What the hell had he been thinking?_

"_Stick to the plan. It's all in the timing,_" Cho had reiterated. Lesson one. Layout of house and grounds.

Castle could feel his pulse race. His stomach had tied itself in knots. He had barely eaten anything and had managed to drink at little as possible. "I can do this," he muttered over and over to himself. "I can do this. For Kate and Alexis." He looked at the time on the watch and waited for it to click to ten minutes past four. He took one last look at Elena who hadn't moved. Then he turned the dial, primed the watch and opened the door a crack and aimed it down the corridor. "Show-time!"

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	6. Chapter 5 - Without a hitch

A/N: Once again thank you for the 'follows' and 'favorites'. Thank you to those who took the time to leave a comment and send messages of encouragement. Your support is very much appreciated. . Guests, I would reply individually if I could.

**Chapter 5 – Without a hitch...almost!**

The watch emitted a silent electromagnetic pulse that was designed to interfere with the security camera at the end of the hall. As soon as he felt the vibration from the watch he knew he had only five seconds. He opened the door pulling it quietly behind him and raced for the end of the hall, the three dimensional image of the house clear in his head. He could almost picture himself as a dot moving along it's corridors. Elena's room was on the second floor at the front of the house overlooking the olive groves and the sea. All he had to do was turn right and run for the staff stairs at the end of the corridor. He counted the seconds off in his head desperately hoping that the guard in the security room wasn't paying too much attention to that particular camera before the five second burst of static.

Rick paused in the stairwell and listened, half expecting alarms to go off and six guards to come charging at him with AK47s but he could hardly believe it. All was silent. His confidence grew slightly. Quickly he made his way down to the lower level. Being built on the side of a hill the house had two levels above the main floor and one level below. The staff staircase was narrow and tucked away at the back of the house but it gave access to every floor and best of all it had no cameras. He knew that he would come out directly opposite Noronov's study.

At the bottom of the stairs he paused to catch his breath then he repeated the procedure with the watch to disable the camera on that floor. He ran across to the door and pushed the handle. It was locked. Quickly he pounced back to the stairwell. "Shit!" Cho hadn't said anything about it being locked. Pressing himself against the wall he stared at the large wooden door with it's ornate brass handle and lock considering his options. _What to do?_ The EM microbursts weren't long enough for him to pick the lock. Besides he didn't have a kit. He glared at the door. He'd come too far to give up now and he'd be damned if he was going to let that stop him. In his mind he brought up the three dimensional plan again. The guard's room was up one level and to his right. It was a logical place to keep keys. He made his decision and snuck back up one floor.

He stood by the wall and listened carefully. He knew that two guards should be patrolling the grounds with the dogs and that they would return in thirty-seven minutes to check the house. That left one guard to monitor the cameras. Cho had assured him that they didn't record. They just provided a real-time view of the house and grounds. He had to find a way to distract the guard and get him to leave the room. As he pressed his back into the wall and calmed his nerves, his ears picked up a strange noise. He listened. Someone was snoring. Loudly.

Castle grinned scarcely able to believe his luck. Forgetting the watch, he stepped out into the corridor, took three paces and looked in through the open door. A sofa and table stood to one side with a fridge. Against the far wall was a bank of screens, a computer, several phones and a bottle of vodka. In the chair in front of it sat a large man with a red face, his legs stretched out and his hands folded across his distended belly. A small dribble of saliva hung from the corner of his open mouth. Best of all on the wall above him was a key cupboard. The door was open. The keys hung in neat rows, each one neatly labelled. _I am one lucky sonofa..., thought Castle to himself._

Rick tiptoed across the room. He froze as the guard snorted and stirred in his sleep but he didn't wake. Rick looked at the rows of keys. _What the hell?_ They were all labelled in Russian. Castle grimaced and fished out his phone. He googled a Russian to English dictionary and typed in the word study all the while keeping half an eye on the sleeping guard. _Derrick Storm never encountered these problems but then he had written him to be fluent in half a dozen languages_. Finally he located the right key and retraced his steps back to the study. He placed the key in the lock and prayed. It opened.

Quickly he let himself and locked the door behind him. He stood for a moment until the hammering in his chest eased. _Made it._

_Whoa!_ Rick turned around and almost had a heart attack. A huge figure with a garish mask loomed over him. Castle blinked in the bright moonlight that illuminated the room through the panoramic windows. He sighed with relief when he realized that it was only a suit of armour. For a moment, looking around the room gave him the impression he was in a museum. The walls were hung with ancient weaponry. Every kind of armour possible ranging from an English medieval knight to a Japanese Samurai were displayed on carved pedestals. Rick was impressed. _Wow! An arms dealer with a serious collection of arms. Obsessed or what?_ He paused to admire a set of shuriken in a glass case. _Rick! FOCUS! Safe!_

It was set into the wall behind the large ornate desk. Rick crossed the room in a few strides and pulled open the cabinet which displayed a range of bullets and small calibre ammunition each one beautifully polished and labelled. The cabinet swung open on well oiled hinges to reveal a wall safe with a digital lock.

_Now for Lesson two. Safe-breaking 101._

Pulling out the cell phone Cho had given him, he lifted off the back and placed it to the right of the lock. The tiny magnets held it in place. Swiping his finger across the screen, he selected the appropriate application and activated it. A set of spinning blocks appeared on the screen. As the seconds ticked by the blocks resolved themselves one at a time into numbers. _So cool! _He wondered if they let him keep the gadgets. _Probably not!_

Eventually a seven digit code came up. He typed it into the keypad and with a whir the door clicked open. He removed the phone, replaced the back and slowly pulled open the door. There was a tiny click. Again Rick sighed with relief. Inside was a tablet computer, a set of buff coloured files, a jewellery box and a stack of money in various currencies. He memorized how they were arranged and, ignoring the jewellery and the money, he carefully lifted out the tablet and the files and placed them on the desk.

Pulling a lighter from his pocket, he removed the case and attached the concealed USB to the tablet computer. A little blue light came on to indicate it was replicating the contents. While it was copying, Rick systematically photographed the documents in the files. Many of them were in Russian so he couldn't filter the information and only take what he thought was important. So he didn't bother. He simply photographed every item. He worked methodically as quickly as he could but he was aware that the clock was ticking. He could feel the sweat beading on his forehead and making his shirt stick to his back but he ignored it and carried on.

There were only eight minutes left before the guard's next round by the time he had finished. He restored the files to the safe and closed it. He closed the cabinet and headed back to the door giving one last check around the room. Now all he needed to do was replace the key. Using the watch to be on the safe side he disabled the camera, slipped out, locked the door and sprinted for the stairs. Once again he paused in the stairwell and listened. Only this time there was no snoring. _Dammit!_

He was running out of time. He would have to risk it. Quickly he set of a EM pulse and dodged out into the corridor to peer in the guard's room. It was empty! Delighted Rick rushed over and put the key on its hook. As he did so he saw movement on one of the screens. He paused to check it out. The three guards were all outside smoking. He chuckled to himself, spun on one heel and strolled nonchalantly back to Elena's room. _Lady Luck was definitely on his side tonight!_

She was still sleeping peacefully when he arrived. He wished he could just jump out of the window and make a run for it but the grounds were riddled with security devices. There was only one way out, the way he had come in so he forced himself into a chair and watched the first streaks of sun lighten the sunrise thinking of home and Kate. Just before the following security round he got up and took one last look at Elena. On a whim he crossed to the dresser and pulled one of the roses from the display. He placed it on the pillow next to her and stepped out in the corridor just as the guard arrived outside her room. The tall ugly brute with a wide nose and a flat forehead glared at him and fingered his weapon. Castle forced himself to smile. He raised his finger to his lips and tipped his head in the direction of Elena's room. With an exaggerated gesture he closed the door and swaggered towards him.

"Think I tired her out," he said giving him his most salacious look. The gorilla didn't appear to understand a word he said but his meaning was evident and didn't require translation. The guard grinned and slapped him on the back. Then he accompanied Rick to the door where the other one was waiting with a Doberman Pincher who looked at Castle like he was a particularly tasty morsel of steak.

"Taxi?" the guard asked, probably the only word of English he spoke. Castle shook his head and waved his phone. "Chauffeur!" He nodded towards the gates where a black car stood waiting. The walk up the drive to the black iron gates was the longest walk of his life. He knew they were watching him but he didn't dare turn round. He pretty much held his breath the whole way there until the gates swung open and he stepped through and got into the car.

The minute he was seated he was overcome with exhaustion, the adrenalin that had carried him through the night gone leaving a deep utter weariness. What had he been thinking? It had been the worst six hours of his life and he wanted nothing more than to put it behind him and forget all about it. The rest of the journey home passed in a blur. He had to endure a debriefing on the plane but it was short and to the point and Clay was delighted with the results immediately setting in motion the wheels that would ensure that the rest of the mission would end in a successful outcome. None of that was Rick's problem. He had survived and was on his way home.

He slept solidly for the rest of the flight only waking sufficiently to drag himself to the car where Barney was waiting to take him home. Home to his daughter and his mother. Home to Kate.

**END OF PART 1**


	7. Chapter 6 - Questions

A/N: Once again thank you for the 'follows' and 'favorites'. Thank you to those who took the time to leave a comment and send messages of encouragement. Your support is very much appreciated. . Guests, I would reply individually if I could.

Part 2 takes place after the prologue's confrontation with Kate, Martha and Alexis. I have had a lot of comments about this so I just want to say I know their reactions were always going to be the weak spot in the plot and many people have picked me up on that but it was partly artistic licence. It wouldn't have had the same impact if they had all sat down and had a civilized conversation over tea and biscuits. The story would have been dead in the water. Secondly as a first hand witness to something like this, when presented with overwhelming evidence (i.e. pictures of loved one in arms of another shown to the world for everyone to see) believe me when I say the shock, hurt and humiliation tends to override all intentions to give the person the benefit of the doubt no matter how much they are loved.

But enough of my trying to justify it, a lot of people hate me for it. I just appreciate those of you who have read this far giving me the benefit of the doubt. And I hope you won't be too shocked by the Castle I have chosen to portray in the next chapter. You have been warned!

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**PART TWO**

**Chapter 6 - Questions**

The silence was unbearable. He had sat at the dining room table for what seemed like hours not moving, not knowing what to do. The photograph, now crumpled sat accusingly in front of him. It was ironic. He'd won the acclaim and respect of the CIA but he'd lost the love and respect of the three most important people in his life. His life was finished. There was nothing he could do. He'd made the decision. He'd signed the papers. He was sworn to secrecy. He contemplated breaking the oath and risking the consequences but it was too late, the damage was done. The magazine article had made sure of that. It wasn't only the picture on the front. The centre page double spread showed his every move. Elena removing his shirt, him kissing her, Elena with her hands in his hair, Elena removing her dress and him scooping her up in his arms and moving away from the window. The pictures left no doubt of their intentions. And if that wasn't bad enough the magazine had sealed his fate with an additional page showing him in Cannes, every picture of him with a different woman including the bubbly blond presenter who had virtually thrown herself at him. The picture the editor had selected was the one where he was smiling at her broadly and she had her hand on his knee. The photographer was either very good or very lucky. It was an intimate picture and when thrown together with all the others, arm in arm with the leading lady of the movie or pictured with his arms around a group of female fans crowded around him, it portrayed him as the world's greatest Lothario. The evidence was there for all to see in glorious multi-colour. They had carefully left out all the other pictures with the director, or the leading man, the film-makers, the diplomats, even the prince. He couldn't bring himself to read the words that accompanied the pictures. Glimpsing Kate's name there had been enough to make him retch.

He contemplated calling her to try to explain but he knew she wouldn't take his calls. He wondered about talking to his mother but a glance at the clock said it was the middle of the night. He wondered if she was asleep. The disappointment on her face made him feel sick. Less than twenty four hours ago he had been the happiest man in the world coming home to his wonderful daughter and his wife-to-be and now he felt as though he had lost everything.

Eventually he lifted himself from the chair and dragged himself to his bedroom but he couldn't bring himself to go to bed, to slip between the sheets that had so recently held the love of his life. Instead he dragged the cover from the bed over to the couch and lay down.

The pain in his chest was intolerable. It was as though someone had reached in and was squeezing it tighter and tighter. The moment he closed his eyes he saw her face, the pain in her eyes. He felt the sting of her slap but the cut of her words was worse, worse than anything he had felt before. And to crown it all the pictures, even though they didn't tell the whole story, were true, They weren't lies. They weren't faked. He had willingly done those things and now the whole world would see them. It didn't matter what they said about him. It was what they would do to Kate and Alexis and Martha. They were the ones who would have to put up with the withering stares and the snide comments. He knew people and people are quick to condemn. The damage had been done and it didn't matter if he shouted it from the rooftops, no one would want to know the why, only that he did.

Eventually, his desperation to end the pain won out. He did something that he hadn't done for many years. He headed to drinks cabinet and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. He had always despised men who turned to drink but now, in the depths of his despair he understood why they did it. Anything to dull the pain in his heart.

And so it was that the next morning Martha Rodgers found her only son passed out on the couch with an empty bottle in one hand, his wretchedness still visible on his face. She did the only thing she could do. She sat down beside him and wept.

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Elsewhere in the city Dr Lanie Parrish was stomping around her kitchen cursing the name of Richard Castle. Curled up on her sofa hugging a mug of coffee was her dearest and closest friend Kate Beckett. "I just can't believe that he would do this. Sonofabitch." Lanie slammed a bagel into the toaster. "Sonofabitch." Kate stared into space not really listening to her friend. She couldn't believe what he had done either. They had wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt when they had seen the cover. They had tried to come up with every explanation possible. It was misleading or had been faked. But when they had read the words 'full story inside', it had been like reading the worst kind of graphic teen novel, each picture stabbing into her heart like a dagger. The nine hour wait for him to return had been excruciating. They had tried to call, tried to warn him but they just kept getting that damned answering machine and eventually the message voice-mail full. She thought about their conversations during the trip what few there had been. He had seemed distant and distracted each one cut short with an excuse that he had to go so when he had finally got home the pressure had got to her and she had just lost it. To her bitter shame she had lashed out. His words echoed in her head. _Not what you think._ But then he hadn't denied it. He hadn't said it was a big mistake or that it wasn't him or that it was a stupid publicity stunt. He hadn't even tried to offer an explanation. All he had done was stare at her with the same expression she had seen on his face when he had left the party in Cannes. Regret. She didn't know what to think. Her anger had long burnt out and she had no tears left to cry. All that was left was a gaping hole in her soul and a single question. Why?

.

"Why?" Kevin Ryan leaned across the table lowering his voice conspiratorially so as not to be heard by the officers at the next table. "Why would he do something like this?" Esposito just stared into his coffee and shook his head miserably at a loss for words "I couldn't believe it when Jenny showed me those pictures. I still can't believe it. Poor Kate. It's going to be all over the precinct by now. Everyone will be talking about it. This is so wrong."

.

At dozens of tables, in dozens of homes and coffee shops people read the Sunday papers, surfed the net, listened to the radio and watched the television. The scandal had spread from the magazine and was over all the news. Who was the mystery woman? Were the rumours that he was no longer in a relationship with the woman who had inspired his books true? Each time the name of Richard Castle was brought up it was linked to the words: womanizer, philanderer, playboy. As his name was dragged through the mud so was that of his muse, his inspiration, his partner and his lover, Kate Beckett. No matter what they all thought, if asked they all would have said he was wrong.

.

In a quiet office on the third floor of an anonymous looking building in Washington D.C. two men sat opposite one another their faces grim. The older of the two, a short wiry man with silver-framed glasses wearing a light grey suit, white shirt and red tie ran a hand over his short grey hair as he looked at the magazine he had just been handed. He frowned in consternation. The other man leaned back in his chair, his Asian features arranged into an expression of concern. "What are we going to do?"

Clay shook his head. "I don't know Cho. I really don't know."

Cho frowned. "He really came through for us."

Clay nodded in agreement. "He did indeed. Better than I could have hoped for but like father like son..." He left the words hanging as he tossed the magazine on the desk. "This is most unfortunate."

Cho nodded. "I may not have whole-heartedly supported you on this Sir ..." Clay gave a wry laugh at the recollection of his subordinate's strong objections to using a civilian celebrity to bring down a terrorist plot. "... but you were right. Richard Castle was the right man for the job. And … and I can't help feeling that we should do something for him. He was engaged to be married. I sincerely doubt he is now. To abandon him now seems … wrong."

Clay nodded surprised by Cho's declaration. But like Cho he had developed a liking for the writer who was far more than he appeared on the surface. "I'll speak to my superiors and see if we can't do a little damage control."

.

Richard Castle was right about one thing. Grigori Noronov was obsessed. He had loved weapons ever since he had been a small child. His father had a sabre that had belonged to his grandfather and he had told the young Grigori all manner of stories of battles and heroism and derring-do that had infatuated the impressionable young boy. Living a harsh life in the one of the wildest regions of the then Soviet Union Grigori had yearned for the glamour of his grandfather's life. One day while walking in the fields he had found a knife dropped many years before. He had spent hours cleaning it and sharpening the blade. He had showed it his friends who were jealous of his find. One day one of the older boys in the village had offered to buy it from him. When his friends heard him they decided they wanted it too and Grigori had sold it to the highest bidder. His first sale. Many years later after the death of his father he joined the army and was taught everything he needed to know about weapons. He never forgot the knife and so discovered that selling weapons rather than firing them could make him very rich indeed.

Grigori Noronov opened the door to his study and inhaled deeply. He loved the combined smells of leather and steel. He crossed to his desk, placed his briefcase by his chair, sat down and began perusing his mail. The head of his security detail and his most trusted right-hand man, Yvan followed and stood to attention in front of the desk, his imposing bulk casting a shadow over the desk. "Report," Grigori commanded.

"Colchov called to confirm the date of the next shipment..." Grigori nodded. "...and we took care of that problem in Marseille. He won't be talking to the police again." Grigori nodded again pleased that the weak link had been removed. Yvan was about to continue when his phone rang. He excused himself and took the call. Grigori's head snapped up as Yvan swore loudly. Yvan put his hand over the microphone. "The US shipment has been seized."

Grigori sprang from his chair. "What? How the hell did this happen?" He snatched the phone from Yvan. "What happened?" He listened, swore and hung up the call. He paced up and down the room cursing everyone from God to the President.

Yvan shuffled nervously. "What happened?"

"They were waiting for them at the rendezvous. They took everything and arrested everyone including the shippers, the go-between and the buyers. A massive coordinated operation according to Dimitri. They knew everything."

Yvan frowned as Grigori continued to pace. "If they arrested the whole chain then ..."

"... the leak didn't come from them." Grigori stopped pacing. "Apart from you and I no one knew all the details unless ..." He turned to look at the safe. Without further hesitation he crossed to the safe and opened it. He looked at the inside. It was exactly as he had left it but Grigori Noronov had not got where he had by good fortune. He had become one of the most successful arms dealers on the planet by virtue of two things, ruthlessness and paranoia. He pulled out the tablet and switched it on. He swiped his finger across the screen and selected an application. He gazed at the screen for a moment. "Has Elena brought home any of her friends recently?"

Yvan shook his head. "No none of the usual crowd but she did bring home someone new. Some bigshot playboy author. After the film festival opening gala but he didn't leave her room until six in the morning and Boris escorted him out."

Grigori huffed and turned the tablet to face Yvan. "This man?"

Yvan's eyes opened wide as he stared at the close-up black and white picture. The framing and the angle of the shot told him that it could only have been taken in one particular spot and that was at the precise moment the safe door was opened. Realization hit him. "You have a camera installed in the safe?" he asked in utter amazement.

Grigori nodded curtly. "A wise precaution as it turns out." He gazed at the picture. He didn't need to ask for a name. He recognized him immediately. After all he had bought most of Elena's books for her. "It seems that our Mr Castle is not only a bigshot playboy author. He is also a spy and a thief. The question is what are we going to do about it? I should imagine that he is back in the US now."

Yvan thought for a moment. "Perhaps we should call Niska?"

Grigori stretched his lips into a thin smile. "Yes perhaps we should."

.

A/N next update Monday!


	8. Chapter 7 - Monday Morning

A/N: Once again thank you for all the 'follows' and 'favorites'. Thank you to those who took the time to leave a comment and send messages of encouragement. Your support is very much appreciated. I apologize if I haven't managed to get round to responding to you individually. I have been a little overwhelmed. Guests, I would reply individually if I could.

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**WARNING : CHAPTER CONTAINS ACTS OF VIOLENCE.  
**

**.**

**Chapter 7 – Monday Morning News**

"Girl! Take the day off!" Lanie begged looking at Kate as she emerged from the bathroom. Her face was pale and drawn. Dark shadows lay under her eyes which seemed to have lost their brilliance and zest for life.

"I can't Lanie. I already took the weekend. I can't ..." Kate Beckett raised her head and straightened her shoulders. "... and I won't. It'll be better for me to work. I'll be fine," she uttered trying to convince herself as much as her friend. In fact she dreaded it. She knew there'd be the looks and the whispers. People would laugh behind her back. She knew what they would be saying. Poor Kate. What did she think she was doing hooking up with someone like him? Her heart contracted as he entered her thoughts. Go talk to him, said a little voice but what was she going to say? She steeled herself and smiled at her friend. "How about I treat you to breakfast? … That nice little diner off fourth? ... Lanie?"

Kate looked at Lanie but her friend didn't answer. Lanie's eyes seemed focussed on a spot just over her right shoulder. Lanie's mouth opened, a shocked gasp escaping her lips. "Kate!"

Slowly Kate turned around and realized that Lanie was staring at the TV news that had been left on mute. Kate's eyes widened as she saw an image of a red sports car wrapped around a tree surrounded by police and fire department vehicles. The scrolling title underneath it read: "Mystery writer missing after crash."

.

Lisa Bronson stood nervously in front of the four men seated around the nondescript conference table in the middle of the nondescript room on the third floor of an anonymous looking building in Washington D.C. Other than slight variations in the greys of their suits and ties, they all looked the same. Middle-aged men with serious demeanour and serious jobs. Men old before their time. They were the operation's executive of the CIA.

Clay gave her a nod of encouragement. "You said it was urgent Lisa."

"Yes sir." Lisa worked in the technology division. Her expertise lay in data recovery. "I analysed the rest of the data that was pulled from Noronov's tablet and I came across an unusual set of files. They're all photographs - quite basic, nothing fancy. They look like they came from a surveillance camera. They are all of Noronov or his aide Yvan ..." She paused. "...all except one." Lisa reached out to the monitor set on the wall and tapped the screen. A close-up black and white photograph appeared. The four men's expressions changed immediately. "I think Noronov may have installed an additional security feature in his safe. A camera that takes a picture every time the door is opened. The pictures, along with a date and time stamp, are automatically transferred to his tablet. Sir I think he knows that Richard Castle broke into his safe."

The four men at the table were stunned. Clay was about to thank her when the door opened and Cho rushed in. "Sorry to barge in but we may have a problem." He turned to Lisa. "Can you get channel four news on that?" He frowned as he saw the picture of Rick but Lisa nodded and turned to the screen, her fingers sweeping deftly across it. The image changed to the news. Lisa turned up the sound.

" … _and local police have now confirmed that Richard Castle is indeed missing. They believe that following last night's crash at the renowned accident hot-spot on the coastal road, Mr Castle may have stumbled from the wreck to seek help and lost his footing on the cliffs. This particular stretch of the coast is notorious for its strong tides. Police believe that Mr Castle may have been swept out to sea. They are appealing for witnesses."_

Cho's face was grim. "Sir, I just spoke to the officer in charge of the investigation and asked them to send over the crime scene photographs. Sir this was no accident. Our experts believe he was run off the road deliberately."

.

_Cold. Hard. Pain. _

Castle forced open his eyes. He was lying on a cold metal floor and his nose and chest hurt. He tried to move but his arms wouldn't cooperate. He blinked and rolled over grimacing as he discovered his hands were tied behind his back. The plastic zip ties were pulled so tight they dug painfully into his wrists. His mind felt like cotton-wool. He couldn't think straight. He tried to recall what had happened. He'd been in the loft … the ring!

_He'd woken up from his drunken stupor to find himself alone. The first thing that he saw was the ring. The ring that Kate had thrown at him was lying accusingly on the table next to a bottle of water and some painkillers. He'd staggered from the couch and thrown it to the other side of the room. He cringed at the recollection of the tantrum that had followed. As the pain and frustration of his situation hit him afresh, he had thrown anything he could get his hands on. He'd broken china, tipped over furniture, smashed vases, pulled pictures from the walls. He had wreaked havoc on the loft until his energy had given out and he had sank into a heap bitterly ashamed of himself and his actions. It had been late by the time he'd come to his senses. He had managed to drag himself to the shower and change his clothes but the loft had become oppressive, every item somehow reminding him of what he had lost, so he had left it all behind. He had taken the Ferrari and driven out to his house in the Hamptons._

_The rest was a blur. Blinding lights. A huge truck. Then nothing. _

"Oh Mr Castle! Are you with us?" A heavily accented voice rang through the cavernous space.

Rick struggled to his knees and studied his environment. The four walls were grey steel held together by rivets. An oval door with its porthole and dog was set into the wall in front of him. It was then that Rick realized that they weren't walls, they were bulkheads and it wasn't a door, it was a watertight hatch. The vibration he could feel through the floor beneath his knees was from an engine. He was on a ship. To be more specific he was in the hold of a ship. He looked up. High above his head were the sliding doors that allowed cargo to be lowered into the hold.

"Over here Mr Castle," the voice goaded.

Still on his knees Rick shuffled round in search of the voice. He almost laughed. The last thing he had expected to see was a modern flat screen television and video camera set up on a make-shift wooden table. The face that peered out at him from the screen was one he recognized immediately. "Noronov!"

Noronov pulled his lips into a thin smile that looked more like a grimace. "I apologize that I cannot be there in person to keep you company but rest assured you are in very good hands." A loud scraping of metal announced the opening of the hatch behind him. Rick twisted around to see a six foot four giant of a man step in. His head was completely shaven and he had a tightly cut goatee. In one hand he carried a baseball bat. "Ah here he is. This is my very good friend Niska. He is going to take very good care of you aren't you Niska?" The big man grinned and nodded but Castle found he couldn't take his eyes off the baseball bat. "You like baseball Mr Castle? You're an American. You must like baseball."

Rick swallowed and turned back to the screen. He forced a cocky smile onto his face. "Like it? I love it! Could play all day. You want me to pitch or bat?"

Noronov gave a laugh that sounded more like a snort. "Good, good. You have a sense of humour. I like a man with a sense of humour. I will leave you and Niska to play but first I have someone here who wants to say hello." The image on the screen wobbled as the camera moved to show Elena sitting in a high-backed wooden chair, intricately carved with psychedelic geometric patterns. Rick's heart clenched at the look on her face. She was clearly terrified.

"Elena?" She didn't speak but her eyes bored into his. He had expected her to be angry, to hurl abuse at him but oddly there was no condemnation. In fact her eyes seemed to be pleading with him.

"You used her, Mr Castle," Noronov accused.

Castle picked up on his meaning. "Elena, I'm sorry. I did what I had to do but I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You drugged me?" Elena asked in a trembling voice, her eyes still pleading with Rick.

Rick nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry Elena. I tricked you. I put a sleeping draft in your champagne." Elena sagged visibly as though relieved to hear his words back up her story, her eyes expressing her gratitude.

Noronov appeared behind her chair and gently stroked her hair. "So she had no part in this."

Rick shook his head. "No! No I seduced her. I drugged her wine and I crept out while she was asleep. It was all my doing. She didn't know anything about it."

Noronov nodded and smiled as if satisfied. "Good. That's good." Then he grasped her hair, pulled her head back and slit her throat.

"ELENA! NO!"

Rick curled in on himself closing his eyes. "Oh God! No ... no ..." Bile rose in his throat and it took all he had not to throw up. He couldn't bring himself to look at the screen.

"I don't suppose we will meet again Mr Castle so I shall bid you goodbye and leave you to Niska."

The sound of studded boots on metal told Castle what was to happen next but he found that he didn't care. It didn't matter any more. He had Elena's blood on his hands and Kate was gone. He thought too of Alexis and Martha but it was too late now. They were all better off without him. Such was the pain in his heart that he didn't even feel the first blow. He didn't have anything to live for now anyway.

.

A/N. Before anyone gets mad at how I chose to end this chapter remember : "The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall." - Nelson Mandela


	9. Chapter 8 - Revelations

A/N: Once again thank you all for the 'follows' and 'favorites' and reviews. I have been overwhelmed by your responses to this story. I hope I have managed to respond to everyone who left a review. If I haven't, it was purely unintentional and I thank you very much for taking the time to leave a comment. Guests, I would reply individually if I could.

**Chapter 8 - Revelations**

Kate's hands were trembling as she stepped into the loft. She was surprised to find the door was wide open and she could hear Martha talking. Quietly she walked into the living room and stopped utterly shocked at the scene before her. It was a mess. The loft looked like a tornado had passed through it. Martha was stood with her back to her talking a police officer, his uniform stating that he was not from the NYPD. Alexis, who was perched on the arm of the couch, spotted her immediately.

"Kate!" Alexis sprang up and ran straight into her arms. "Kate! Oh Kate!"

Kate could feel her shaking. "Sh! Alexis. It's going to be all right. What happened?"

Alexis looked up at her and whispered. "Dad … got … drunk ..." Kate's heart clenched. "...then he trashed the place and took the Ferrari ..." Her voice wobbled. Kate couldn't hardly bring herself to believe it but the evidence was there in front of her.

"Is there any news? Have they found him?" Alexis shook her head.

Martha turned round. She looked utterly distraught. "Oh Kate! Kate, this is Chief Graham. He's come down from the Hamptons … about the accident. Chief ..." She tried to smile at the man who was nervously fingering his hat. "...this is Kate Beckett, Richard's ..." Martha broke off suddenly at a loss for words.

Kate forced herself to smile. "Partner. I'm with the NYPD. Castle sometimes consults with us on cases." The man nodded looking uncomfortable.

"Ma'am. I … er … was just asking Mrs Rodgers about the days leading up to the accident. If anything particular had occurred …" His eyes flicked around the room. "... er … I mean … anything that may have … er … upset him. I mean, I'm trying to establish what frame of mind he was in when the accident occurred."

Kate felt like she had been slapped. He was asking them if they thought that Castle had tried to kill himself. Kate couldn't believe it. Ever since she had seen the report and contacted Martha she had assumed that it was an accident. But suicide? Rick? She was speechless.

Fortunately Martha rose to the occasion. "My son was distraught." Chief Graham frowned but waited for her to continue. "There was some bad press that … er ..." She swallowed nervously desperately searching for her words. "What I mean is ..."

They all jumped as a voice interrupted.

"Excuse me?" They all turned round to see a short wiry man with silver-framed glasses wearing a light grey suit, white shirt and red tie standing in the doorway. Behind him stood a heavy-set man with Asian features. Kate gasped as she recognized him. A kind of sixth sense kicked in, something that told her that there was more going on here than met the eye. "I am terribly sorry to interrupt but the door was open. Chief Graham, might I have a word in private?"

The Chief was clearly surprised to see that the newcomer knew who he was. Curious, he went over and the two men stepped out into the corridor. They spoke in low undertones for a few minutes, Chief Graham's stance indicating he was shocked by the newcomer's revelations. Then suddenly he turned, tipped his hat to Martha, Kate and Alexis and left. The man in the grey suit returned closing the door quietly after him. He looked around the room. "Oh my what on earth happened here? Did Rick do this?" The three women flinched at his casual use of Castle's first name.

"Who are you?" Alexis asked tentatively.

"My apologies, Miss Castle. My name is Clay and this is my associate Cho. We're … friends of your father."

"Have you found my father? Is he all right?" Alexis' eyes filled with tears again.

Clay smiled at her kindly though his demeanour suggested that he was more than a little worried. "Miss Castle, please rest assured that we are doing everything in our power to get your father back."

"What?" Kate couldn't help herself. "Wait! What do you mean get him back?"

Martha jumped out of her skin. "What's going on?"

"Perhaps we should sit down?" He saw the dining room table was still standing. "Please Mrs Rodgers, Miss Castle, Detective Beckett." He righted a chair for Martha who acknowledged his gesture with a nod. They all sat except for Cho who stood at a discrete distance. "Now before I answer your questions, I think I should explain this." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Unfolding it he placed it in the centre of the table. Kate felt her heart jump as her eyes fell on the magazine photograph of Rick in the arms of another woman. Clay was looking at her intently. Kate slowly raised her eyes to his, an awful sinking feeling in her stomach. His next words shattered her world. "It's not what you think."

.

Sixteen days.

Rick lay on a lumpy mattress trying to move as little as possible. After Niska had had his fun Rick had been taken from the hold to another much smaller compartment. It had once been a sleeping compartment but the bunks had been removed leaving gaping black holes in the bulkhead where the bolts had been. The door to the head had been removed and the only things it contained was the threadbare, urine stained mattress and a bottle of water. Just before Niska had closed and locked the door he had taken out a black marker pen and drawn a single short vertical line on the bulkhead wall. "Seventeen days at sea then I am home. You. You have sixteen days then you will be dead. Till tomorrow."

Rick stared at the line. He had assumed that Niska would kill him straight away but to his dismay he realized that Niska was playing with him and that the first beating was just a taster. He had sixteen more days to endure. He lay back and closed his eyes. At least the zip ties holding his wrists had been cut. As he lay there he took stock. He had a multitude of bruises and contusions but there didn't appear to be anything more serious than what he suspected was a cracked rib. His left side burned agonizingly every time he breathed in and out, and his left arm and shoulder hurt badly too. The large purple bruise that extended from his left shoulder to his chest must have been caused by the seatbelt, the swelling around his nose and eye from contact with the Ferrari's airbag. He winced as he remembered the jolt as the truck smashed into him from behind just as they approached the bend forcing him to crash into the tree. He vaguely remembered being dragged from the wreck and nothing else till he had awoken on the floor of the hold.

The human body has a strange way of fighting to keep you alive. His mouth and throat were like sandpaper and despite the pain and his wish to kick this mortal coil he found himself rolling to one side and reaching for the bottle of water. Afterwards he lay there looking at the line until exhaustion overcame him and he slept.

.

The operation's executive were once more seated around the conference table on the third floor. Their initial euphoria about the success of the operation was been replaced by two major concerns, the first being that Grigori Noronov was still in business and the second that a world-famous writer and the son of one of their best deep-cover agents was missing. They were about to discover that the second of these would soon be resolved.

The doors to the conference room flew open and a very angry father stormed into the room. He held a grubby looking bag, his clothes were dishevelled and there were bags under his eyes indicating that he had travelled far and slept very little. "What the hell were you thinking sending my son in there?" Clay tried to speak but Jackson Hunt interrupted. "I want an extraction team prepped and ready to roll now!"

Clay jumped to his feet. "You know where he is?"

Hunt grimaced. "Not exactly but Noronov has returned to Russia and handed the problem of Rick over to someone else. My contact doesn't know who he spoke to but there is only one person who he would trust enough to pull off something like this and in this amount of time … Nikolai Skaronski."

"Niska?" The other members of the board looked at Clay questioningly. "Hit-man for the Russian mob and the cousin of Noronov's right-hand man Yvan." Clay looked at Hunt, his mind working overtime. "Makes sense. He's based in New York these days." He grabbed his phone from the desk. "Cho? I want every resource we have available to track down a Nikolai Skaronski - goes by the name of Niska - and call our friends at the Navy Yard. Ask them to have Seal Team Nine stand by."

.

"Spike! Nice of you to join us." Digger stuck his hands on hips as the last member of Seal Team Nine rushed into the room.

"Sorry Commander!" The young redhead blushed and slid gingerly into his seat next to his friends Wolf and Minefield who both sniggered. He glared at them. "I needed my dressing changed," he muttered reddening even more as he tried not to pull at the seat of his pants.

Blowfish, a huge slab of a man who looked like he had had a run-in with the back of truck even cracked a small smile. "Change your diaper too kid?" His partner Demon who was sprawled over the chair next to him chuckled. Spike looked even more uncomfortable and muttered something about always picking on the rookie.

Digger had to take charge though he knew his team were only trying to decompress after their previous mission. "All right, settle down children." His rich deep voice echoed around the room. "It's not nice to pick on the newbie." He grinned revealing a beautiful set of pearly white teeth. "First of all the Admiral has asked me to pass on his congratulations. A job well done!" All the men in the room nodded. The whole thing had gone down without a hitch apart from Spike's close encounter with some razor wire. The intel had been spot on. "However, there has been an unexpected complication so I'm afraid we're all back on stand-by." This was greeted by a chorus of groans. "I need you all to prep for an S&R." Digger could see the men in front of him exchange glances clearly not expecting a search and rescue operation.

"Who's the target?" asked Wolf, a serious young man with a sharp mind who was usually the first one to put two and two together.

Digger hit a key on the laptop in front of him. A picture displayed on the wall screen. Wolf's eyes narrowed as he recognized the face but couldn't put a name to it.

"Whoa! That's Richard Castle!" Spike jumped wincing as his stitches pulled. "His books are awesome!" Digger glared at him. "Er … sorry Sir..."

Demon rolled his eyes. "What? We gotta rescue some rich playboy author who got himself kidnapped? Can't they just pay the ransom?" he whined.

Digger looked grim. "No we have to rescue the intelligence asset that provided us with the intel for Operation BlackSea and Noronov doesn't want him for ransom," he stated fiercely. The men in the room were stunned by the revelation.

Even Demon suddenly straightened up in his chair. "Whoa, hold on Commander. Are you saying that Richard Castle is actually a CIA operative?"

Digger nodded. "And as soon as we have the location where he's being held we need to be ready to roll." He smiled to himself as he saw a sea of determined nods from his men.

Spike couldn't help himself. "AWESOME! He really is Derrick Storm. I wonder if I can get a signed copy."

"SPIKE!"

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	10. Chapter 9 - S&R

A/N: Once again thank you all for the 'follows' and 'favorites' and reviews. I have been overwhelmed by your responses to this story. I hope I have managed to respond to everyone who left a review. If I haven't, it was purely unintentional and I thank you very much for taking the time to leave a comment. Guests, I would reply individually if I could.

**Chapter 9 – Search and Rescue**

He was dozing when Niska and his cohort came for him. Castle opened his eyes and forced a cheeky grin onto his face as Meathead bent down to pick him up. Castle didn't know his real name but he decided anyone who had a tattoo across his forehead was clearly lacking a little something in the cerebral department. "Oh I was beginning to think you'd forgotten me." Meathead didn't respond as he didn't understand a word that Rick said but Niska grinned. "So what are we playing today?" He grimaced as he was hauled to his feet. He glanced at the three black lines. "We've already done baseball and … boxing and … er … oh swimming … that was fun! " Rick had to grit his teeth as pain flared through his ribs. He suspected that at least two were cracked now and his chest ached having spent half of the night coughing up water from his lungs after the previous day's session. "Pity that the pool wasn't bigger."

Niska laughed out loud. "You big fun!"

They dragged him down the passageway towards the hatch that led to the hold. Rick didn't think he could take another day let alone another thirteen but despite his size he was no match for the other two men. Besides, on his daily trips to the hold, he had spotted other men even uglier than Meathead armed with AK47s. They dragged him and dumped him on the floor. Meathead left, locking the door behind him. Niska walked over to the far wall and picked something up. He sauntered towards Rick.

"Today we play bandy."

"Bandy huh?" Rick was breathing heavily trying to control the pain in his chest. He struggled to his knees. "Don't think … I know … that one."

Niska circled him like a vulture. "You not know bandy? Russian national sport. Two halves. Forty five minutes each. Eleven men on a team. Like football only on ice with sticks and small ball. "

"Small ball? Figures! … Sort of ice hockey soccer?" Rick tried not to eye the stick that Niska was weighing in his hands. "That's cool. I like ice hockey … soccer not so much … it's for girls. Bet you like soccer."

Niska laughed again. "You try to annoy Niska. Get Niska angry. Perhaps you think I will kill you quicker." It was then that Niska made another two mistakes. His first mistake had been that he hadn't bothered to tie Rick's hands thinking that the man was already beaten. His next was that he bent down beside Rick and whispered into his ear. "You are more fun than I thought. I like you so I am going to keep you alive for the whole trip ... and perhaps for my next trip I will bring your daughter. I bet she is fun too." That was his last mistake.

Something inside Rick snapped. His pain turned to rage and his rage to adrenalin. Curling in on himself he let out a moan of frustration. Niska misinterpreted it as a cry of despair and he remained where he was gloating. He was totally unprepared when Castle's fist connected with his groin. He screamed in pain and dropped the bandy stick. Doubling over to grasp his crotch gave Rick the perfect opportunity to deck him with an upper cut to the jaw that sent him sprawling. Rick forced himself to his feet and took a couple of wobbly steps. He bent down and picked up the bandy stick weighing it in his hands. "Yeah just like ice hockey. I like ice hockey." He turned around to where Niska was rolling on the floor in agony. "No-one and I mean no-one threatens my daughter!" And he swung the stick.

Rick slid down the wall, the adrenalin rush gone. His energy was waning fast from the beatings and the lack of food. He needed a plan. He had already wasted too much time dwelling in self-pity. He needed to protect his daughter and he needed to make things right. He had created this mess and he was going to fix it come hell or high-water. He tried to clear his head. _What would Derrick Storm do?_ _He's on a ship probably in the middle of the Atlantic. Radio. Okay. _He had to locate the radio. He rested for a minute looking at Niska who was no longer moving. He didn't bother to check whether he was dead or not. He didn't care. As he got his breathing under control and his heart-rate down to something approaching near normal, he dragged himself to his feet once more. Clutching his ribs he took a couple of steps towards the hatch when a screeching of metal against metal announced that someone was opening it. Rick's steps faltered as Meathead stepped in and he wasn't alone. Two other men, bigger and uglier than Meathead stepped through the hatch. They both had AK47s.

Rick grimaced. "Oh that is so not fair."

Meathead glared at him with hatred on his face and uttered something in Russian. The man on his right lifted his weapon. Richard Castle straightened himself to his full height. His last conscious thought was for his daughter and how he had failed her. "Alexis. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." When the blast came it was bigger and brighter than he expected and strangely there was no pain. He thought there'd be more pain but there was nothing other than a pressure in his head, a ringing in his ears and a blinding light. He had the sensation that he was falling. Then nothing.

.

Someone was calling his name and tapping his face. Rick forced his eyes open and blinked trying to bring them into focus. Two faces swam before his eyes and a cacophony of sound assaulted his eardrums making his already aching head pound. Slowly his vision resolved itself and he found himself face to face with what he could only describe as … devils. Their blackened faces glowed orange and red in the heat from the fires. Reflections of flames danced in their eyes. The first of them had a pixie-like look with a shock of spiky red hair. He grinned. "Welcome back!"

Rick gulped. "Back?" he stammered. "You mean I've been here before?" The pixie like creature looked surprised. "And to think, I didn't believe in reincarnation."

"He gonna make it Spike?" A third face appeared peering down at him. It too had a blackened face though its skin was much darker than the others and he appeared to be in charge.

The pixie nodded. "Yes Sir, he's a bit banged up but nothing we can't fix."

The third devil nodded. "Good." He then noticed something and called out. "Demon get that fire put out."

Rick groaned. "Oh God! I'm in that special hell."

The other devil who looked as though his face had been flattened with an iron looked worried. "Spike, are you sure he's all right?"

The red-headed devil called Spike smiled. "Don't worry Blowfish, he's just a little disoriented from the flash-bangs. Give him a couple of minutes." He nodded encouragingly at Rick. "You know, it's a real pleasure to meet you Sir. I've read all your books."

Rick was confused. "They have my books in hell?"

Blowfish stared at him open-mouthed clearly thinking he had lost his mind when they were interrupted once more. Digger touched his throat-mike. "Wolf, Minefield, report." Castle didn't hear a reply but somewhere a loud explosion rumbled in the depths making the metal floor beneath him vibrate. This was followed by several short staccato bursts of gunfire "Goddamit! Minefield! I told you not to blow anything up." Blowfish and Spike exchanged glances that said they clearly thought this was like asking the Pope not to say grace at meals.

Something was not quite right.

Castle struggled to sit up with Blowfish giving him a hand. He looked around surprised to find himself still in the hold. Behind him a man dressed all in black with a rifle slung over his back was struggling with a fire extinguisher attempting to extinguish the flames that engulfed the flat screen TV and the wooden table. Rick felt the acrid smoke tickle the back of his throat. A cold blast of salty air brushed his face. Looking up he could see the cargo doors were now partially open and four ropes were swinging gently back and forth. At the far side of the room, Niska, Meathead and his cohorts were all lined up flat on their faces, their hands zip-tied behind their backs while the commander paced back and forth keeping an eye on them and having a one-sided conversation with someone called Minefield.

Blowfish remained kneeling beside Rick with a hand on his back worried that his charge was about to keel over while Spike was digging in a bag with gloved hands. He came out with a small packet. He ripped off the wrapper nodding reassuringly at Rick. "Morphine patch – it'll take the edge off."

Rick looked at his two companions and began to laugh though it turned into a wince as his ribs objected at the movement. Their camouflaged faces registered concern. "I know who you are," he muttered gritting his teeth against the pain. "Yurr' the gorramn cavalry."

Spike nodded smiling happily that his patient seemed to be recovering his senses. "That's us. Seal Team Nine at your service Sir." He applied the patch to Rick's skin. "It'll kick in in a minute. Think you can stand."

Rick grimaced. "If it means getting outta here … hell yeah!"

.

The morphine patch did the trick. The transfer to the helicopter was exhilarating. Rick stored the sensations away intending them for a future novel. Future. Four days ago he thought he didn't have one, that his life had come to an end. Rick had thought that he was about to be killed and that there was nothing he could do but Noronov had made a huge mistake in letting Niska take his time because it had left Rick Castle with a lot of time to think and in doing so Grigori Noronov had unwittingly given him a reason to live.

.


	11. Chapter 10 - Homecoming

A/N: Once again thank you all for the 'follows' and 'favorites' and reviews. I have been overwhelmed by your responses to this story. Sorry I didn't get round to responding to everyone who left a review yesterday but I do thank you very much for taking the time to leave me your comments. They are very much appreciated. Guests, I would reply individually if I could.

**Chapter 10 – Homecoming**

The sleek black car drew up outside the classic brownstone building and Richard Castle heaved himself wearily from the back door, his tired eyes shielded from the late evening sun by dark shades.

"You going to be okay Rick?"

Rick looked back at Clay who was leaning across to look out at him. "Yeah."

Clay nodded. "Look it's probably best if you don't go into details. I've already given them the gist of it."

Rick nodded. "Thanks Clay. I appreciate that. That and getting me out of there."

Clay held up a hand. "It's the least we could do after what you did for us." He smiled apologetically knowing that they should never have gotten him into it in the first place. "We look after our own."

Rick nodded but before he closed the door he asked. "That other matter?"

Clay shook his head. "We can talk about that later. Right now, you need to be with your family."

.

Rick inserted the key quietly into the lock wondering how Clay had managed to obtain his keys and wallet. He paused before turning it. He'd been given a second chance and he had to make this right. He took a deep breath and turned the handle. The door swung open on quiet hinges. As he pushed it closed behind him, the click of the lock was almost inaudible. He hadn't been sure quite what to expect. He had almost expected the loft to be empty and silent and in the state he had left it but it wasn't. The lights were on. There was no trace of the chaos he had caused other than some items being missing, probably resigned to the trash. The furniture had been put back to rights. Music was playing quietly in the background and there were noises coming from the kitchen.

Castle found himself smiling as he heard his daughter's voice. Relief flooded through him. "What about salad? Caesar or spinach?"

"Caesar. No. Spinach. Have we got any of that dressing he likes?"

Rick could hear excitement in his mother's voice. He paused for a few seconds drinking in the delightful domesticity of it all. Finally he pushed himself away from the door and walked into the room.

His heart stopped. It was the most beautiful sight he could have beheld. His mother was sitting at the counter, a glass of wine in one hand; his daughter stood behind the counter preparing a salad and the woman he loved more than anything in the world was laying the table.

She was there. She hadn't given up on him and he still had a chance. His heart soared.

Alexis heard Kate's sharp intake of breath. Her head whipped up. "Daddy!" She tore across the room and threw herself into his arms oblivious to the wave of pain that crossed his face as she hugged him tightly crushing his broken ribs. But he wouldn't have said anything for all the world. "Daddy, you're all right. Oh Daddy!" Rick found himself smiling as his daughter reverted to her childhood name for him.

"Hey pumpkin. I'm fine."

"Oh Daddy! I'm so sorry!"

"Whoa!" Rick stroked her hair and tilted her tear-stained face to look at him. He smiled down at her. "What do you have to be sorry for?" He looked up at the other two women in his life. He could see the pain and regret in their faces. He knew what was coming and he had decided long ago that he wasn't going to let them do this. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

Martha, her face as white as a sheet, felt as though she had been turned to stone the minute her son had walked in. She was shocked by his appearance. He looked drained. His features were pale and drawn. There was extensive bruising around one eye and across his nose. He looked like he'd been through hell but his words jolted her to life again. She slammed down her wine glass and leapt from her seat taking a step towards him. "Oh Richard! How can you say that? After what happened? The way we treated you?"

"Mother!" Martha flinched slightly at the severity of his tone. Pulling himself from his daughter's arms he stepped towards her, reached out and pulled her towards him. He planted a kiss in her hair before standing at arm's length. "We are not going to do this. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Richard ..."

"No! No apologies ..." He looked round at all of them. "...from any of you." His eyes returned to Kate's. She was stood by the table, her eyes filled with tears, one hand over her mouth as though trying to prevent herself from crying out. "Because the only one who should be apologising here is … me!"

Kate's face transformed, her eyes suddenly burning with anger but he knew the anger wasn't aimed at him. "What? What do you have to apologise for? This is all my fault. I didn't even give you a chance to explain those pictures. I ..."

Rick cut her off. "There was nothing to explain Kate. What you saw there was the truth." Kate shook her vehemently and began to speak but Rick continued. "They weren't faked. They weren't misleading. It was me in those pictures. It was me that she took to her room. It was me that seduced her, kissed her, and carried her to her bed. Kate!" Kate was rigid, her face pale as she flinched at his words. Rick took a deep breath, broadened his smile and softened his voice.. "And I don't suppose for a minute that the scenario where, ten minutes later, she was unconscious from the drugs I had given her and I was busy breaking into an arms-dealer's safe to foil a terrorist plot ever made it to the list of the two hundred possible explanations that you all concocted while you waited for me to get back?" He looked around at them. "Did it?" He could see from their faces that it hadn't. "I did what I did. I cannot deny it. I should have said something when I had the chance but I couldn't. You were right to say what you did because it is you who have had to pay the price and for that I am truly sorry."

"No!" All three women began to deny it, Alexis grabbing his arm. "Dad that's not true."

"Isn't it?" he scoffed. "How long was it before the phones started ringing? Twenty minutes? Fifteen?" He turned to Martha. "How long was it before Gina called wanting to know what the hell I thought I was playing at? Or Brad from legal?" Martha looked uncomfortable. Rick turned to Alexis. "You can't tell me that those pictures were a one-off in that magazine. I bet they were all over the internet within minutes. You can't tell me that your friends weren't tweeting the gossip five seconds after they saw the pictures or giggling behind your back making fun of you because of your infamous father." He saw in her face that he had got it right. Tears welled up in her eyes. The comments had been cruel beyond belief.

He turned to Kate. "How long was it before the reporters were outside the building? How long was it before you called in some favours to get them moved on? How long were you cooped up in here with them outside baying for blood? I bet it was hours. And you can't tell me that it isn't all over the precinct, that Ryan isn't shaking his head in disgust, that Espo isn't working on a way to hide my body after Lanie dismembers me." The tension in the room was palpable. Rick forced a grin. "She threatened to cut off my … er ..." He shot a glance at his daughter out of the corner of his eye and whispered in a dramatic theatrical aside. "... family jewels first didn't she?"

Kate had to give a half-hearted laugh. "Yeah, she did."

Turning serious once more Rick looked at them all in turn. "I've been in this business long enough to know what this kind of thing can do and I wasn't there to protect you. I'm sorry that my actions have brought this on you but I need you to know that I will do whatever it takes to make this right."

"Richard, you did what you had to do," his mother stated firmly.

"Did I?" They jumped at the depth of emotion in his voice.

"Dad, Mr Clay said you saved hundreds of lives, maybe thousands." Alexis' face shone up at him with undisguised pride. "He said you were a hero."

_A hero?_

Her words hit him. He felt like the air had been knocked from his body. A picture of Elena, the blood pouring from her throat, rose unbidden to his mind. He suddenly felt sick and the room seemed to tilt. It must have shown on his face.

"Dad? Dad, what's wrong?" His daughter's voice, panicked.

"Richard, are you all right?" His mother's full of concern. "Kate!"

"I just need a minute ..." His own voice coming from far away. The next thing he knew Kate was by his side. Her scent filled his nostrils and he could feel her arm around him.

"Call a doctor!" Martha's voice but so far away.

"NO! … No … doctor. Just a minute … just give me a minute."

.

"Babe! You okay? Look at me. Rick. You with me?"

Rick blinked surprised to find himself sitting on his bed with Kate kneeling at his feet. It pained him to see the torment in her face. "Sorry, must have zoned out a little there. I'm fine. Just a little tired, I guess."

Kate glanced towards the door where Martha and Alexis were watching them nervously. She gave them what she hoped was a reassuring nod. Martha gently pulled Alexis away suggesting that they give them a few minutes.

"Maybe you should lie down for a bit. Have you eaten?" Rick shook his head suddenly unable to remember what he'd eaten and when. "Here let me help you," She got up and helped him shrug off the jacket wondering where he had got it. She hadn't seen it before. In fact she didn't recognize any of his clothes. She saw him wince and she hadn't failed to see the look of pain on his face when Alexis had hugged him. As she lifted the jacket to put it on the chair she felt something bulky in the pocket. She dug in a hand and pulled out a bag. Something rattled inside. She tipped the contents on the bed. Rick was still sitting where she had left him his head in his hands, elbows on his knees though he had managed to kick off his shoes. She looked at the medications: painkillers, anti-inflammatories, antibiotics, antiseptic cream, fresh gauze bandages. Her stomach turned. Quickly she crossed back and dropped to her knees in front of him. He raised his eyes to hers. "Fine my ass!" She glared at him and he gave her a small smile.

"A few bumps and bruises, I'll live." Kate wasn't having any of it. She reached out to unbutton his shirt to see for herself. He placed his hands over hers as though to stop her but he kept her hands in his against his chest. She could feel his heart beating. The pain in his eyes almost broke her heart. "Kate, I'm so sorry I got us into this mess."

She looked up at him. "Rick please. I will never forgive myself for the way I treated you." She cut him off before he could speak. "I'm going to say this whether you want to hear it or not. I am truly sorry for what I did. I should never have doubted you. It was unforgivable and yet you … you forgave me. And I don't deserve that. You are the most wonderful man I have ever come across and I am blessed to have you in my life. I love you with all my heart and I am going to spend the rest of my life proving it to you ..." She pulled away slightly and dug a hand into the pocket of her jeans. Slowly she uncurled her fingers to reveal the ring lying it he palm of her hand. "...that is … if you still want me." She waited with bated breath.

Rick didn't speak. He merely reached out, slipped the ring back on her finger and placed his lips gently on hers.

"Always."

.

**END OF PART TWO**


	12. Chapter 11 - Damage Control Pt1

A/N: Once again thank you all for the 'follows' and 'favorites' and reviews. I have been overwhelmed by your responses to this story. Sorry I didn't get round to responding to everyone who left a review yesterday but I do thank you very much for taking the time to leave me your comments. They are very much appreciated. Guests, I would reply individually if I could.

**Chapter 11 – Damage Control Part 1**

As the sun rose over the Manhattan skyline Kate Beckett got out of her car smiling to herself. She strode down the alley towards Ryan and Esposito who were stood over Lanie waiting for her preliminary findings. She ignored the stares from the two uniformed officers. She knew what they were thinking but that would soon stop. Her smile broadened ever so slightly. They all turned round as she approached. "What have we got?" She stood at the other side of the man sprawled spread-eagled on his back and planted her hands on her hips.

Kevin consulted his notes. "Victor Drake, 42 years old. Last seen coming out of the bar on the corner in the early hours of the morning. He was found by Miss Jogger over there ..." He pointed to a rather overweight woman in a pink jogging outfit who was giving her statement to a uniformed officer. He and Esposito sniggered as Kate arched an eyebrow, the look on her face indicating that she was wondering if the woman was capable of jogging. "...when she popped out for a smoke." He stuck his pen in the air and Kate looked up at the fire-escape above them. "Apparently her husband doesn't like her smoking in the apartment. She was having a cigarette on the fire escape when she saw him."

"Cause of death?" Kate waited for an answer. "Lanie?"

Ryan and Esposito looked down at the ME who was staring at Kate open-mouthed. They followed the direction of her gaze, their eyes widening at the sight of her engagement ring on her finger.

Kate looked at them innocently "What?"

"Girl?" Lanie glared at her outraged, her eyes asking the question. The boys looked confused.

"What? I can't wear my engagement ring to a crime scene?"

"I think the question is, why are you wearing it at all?" Esposito asked, hissing between his teeth.

Kate smirked. "Because I'm to be married to the most wonderful man in the world. And he's fine, thank you for asking. A little banged up after the accident but he's recovering nicely." Kate impressed herself at how smoothly she lied. A little banged up didn't even come close. She had almost died when she had seen his injuries. It wasn't an image that was going to leave her soon. She could only imagine what he had been through as he had glossed over the whole thing with a flippant joke and had refused to talk about it but she had a feeling that there was more to it than he was letting on if the nightmares were anything to go by.

Lanie stood up and indicated they should move away from the body as though he could hear them. They huddled together "Okay, we shouldn't be doing this here," she hissed. "But you have got thirty seconds to explain what the hell is going on and why you are suddenly defending that two-timing sonofabitch."

Kate smiled a secretive little smile. "Okay, two words." She looked around as though to make sure no one was listening. She beckoned them closer. "It's classified."

Ryan's eyes almost popped out of his head. "Classified?"

"Sh!" hissed Kate. "No one can know. He might risk his cover being blown." She spied the officers walking towards them and turned her back on her three friends. "Anything on the canvass?" she asked.

"Yeah, got a guy who says he saw an altercation between the vic and another man earlier yesterday evening." He indicated with his thumb over his shoulder.

"Great, let's go talk to him." Kate turned around to see her friends still staring disbelievingly at her. "You guys okay here?"

Esposito waved her nearer. "Are you seriously telling us he's a ..."

Kate glared at him "Sh! Yes. You know. Tuxedos ... guns … gadgets." She mimed zipping her mouth closed before walking away desperately trying not to laugh.

Lanie couldn't believe her ears or her eyes. Her friend was happy, more than happy. Something had radically changed and she was going to get the details out of her if it was the last thing that she ever did.

Esposito was stunned. "Sonofabitch!"

Ryan was pissed. He pouted like a petulant five-year old. "Oh man, he's got gadgets?"

.

The loft was a hive of activity when she got home. Castle was sitting on a stool in his dress pants, a white towel around his neck while a young brunette attempted to cover up the remaining bruises on his face with make-up. He gave Kate his most heart-warming smile that made her stomach flutter. A second woman with short multicoloured high-lights was stood just behind him. She smiled at Kate as she entered. "Ah here she is ..."

"I'm sorry I'm late. Crazy case..." Kate was delighted to see Castle's eyes light up a little. They seemed to have been so sad since he returned. "I'll tell you about it later," she promised.

Lina waved a dismissive hand. "No worries, Benny is still setting up ..." Benny, a scrawny looking young man in a pink tie-dyed tee-shirt flashed her a smile as he continued to do battle with a parabolic silver umbrella. "... and Amy said it won't take long to add a few hair extensions and do your make-up. The dress is on the bed."

Thirty minutes later Kate emerged from the bedroom to find Rick standing by the window gazing out into the distance lost in his thoughts while Benny rearranged the furniture to his liking. Kate's breath caught in her throat. Rick looked so handsome in full evening dress. As if sensing her gaze he turned to face her. A flicker of pain crossed his face as he took in her outfit but it was quickly replaced by a broad smile. "You look beautiful." Kate blushed. His words were heart-felt and she could see the love in his eyes.

"Now Rick, I need you to stand here." Benny tugged at Rick's sleeve. He then turned Rick's shoulders before putting his hands on Rick's hips which caused a raised eyebrow. Kate smirked. "Okay turn slightly to your right. Perfect!" He turned to Kate and grimaced. "Oh does the dress have to be black? Not that you don't look absolutely divine but black on black? And couldn't we let her hair down?"

"Benny!" Lina admonished. "We've already been through this. It has to be this dress okay? And her hair has to look like that. It has to resemble the other photographs as closely as possible. And go easy on the red filter. You need to make her hair look darker."

Benny rolled his eyes and stuck his hands on his hips.. "Oh very well though how I'm expected to work in these conditions..." he complained.

"Benny..." Rick bestowed his best smile on the photographer. "... I have every faith in you." The man blushed with pleasure.

"All right. Kate. Stand here. Arm around him. Tuck into his side. Rick turn a little more."

"Make sure we can see the ring ..." Benny glared at Lina who held her hands up defensively. Benny fussed for a few more minutes then positioned himself behind the tripod.

"Okay darlings … make it sultry ..." The camera bleeped and whirred. "Turn your head a little more to your right Rick. Perfect. Perfect. You … are … beautiful!" Kate giggled wondering if he meant her or Rick. Rick must have picked up on the reason for her amusement and he slid his hand down and pinched her bottom. And she raised her eyes to his ...

The shoot finished, Lina settled herself next to Benny in front of his laptop as he scrolled through the pictures. "STOP! That one!" Lina held up the magazine cover to compare. Kate felt Rick shuffle uncomfortably next to her. She slid her hand into his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "PERFECT! Send me that one." Benny nodded as Lina jumped up and grabbed her phone. She winked at Kate and Rick as she waited for her call to be answered. "Hazel? I have an exclusive for you!"

.

Dr Lanie Parrish had had a long day. She stretched out her legs and sipped at her wine while her dinner heated through in the oven. She was rather frustrated at not having been able to interrogate Kate who had hurried out the door leaving her only with the cryptic message that she had to get back to catch the evening's entertainment news. Curious Lanie switched on the television and flipped through the channels. She paused as the TV anchor smiled at her from the screen. "_And now over to Hazel Ross with news from the world of showbiz and I believe Hazel you have an exclusive for us._"

The camera switched position and Hazel Ross beamed excitedly at the camera. _"I do indeed John. Only days after miraculously surviving an horrific car accident, millionaire mystery novelist Richard Castle has announced his engagement to none other than his muse and star of the Nikki Heat books, the beautiful Detective Kate Beckett."_ The camera panned out to allow an inset picture. _"Their engagement will be announced formally on his website tomorrow but we have an exclusive preview of the official photograph."_ Lanie couldn't help smiling. Kate looked beautiful. The black satin dress with the swath of silk hanging over one shoulder, hugged her figure beautifully as she gazed up at Castle, her hair falling down her back in a long single coil. The look on his face left the viewer in no doubt of the strength of his feelings for the woman in his arms. "_That dress look familiar John? Well it should."_ The photograph from the magazine appeared alongside the portrait. _"It looks like our mystery writer couldn't wait to get back from his recent European trip so he flew his beloved out to Cannes to pop the question. I'm telling you John there are going to be some very red faces at a certain celebrity tabloid tomorrow after they intimated that he was in fact cheating on her. Sources close to the novelist have indicated that there will be a multi-million dollar lawsuit filed for invasion of privacy and defamation of character."_

Lanie Parrish shook her head. There was definitely more to this but she had to admit looking at the photograph of Richard Castle in that tux. She could definitely picture him as the next James Bond.

.


	13. Chapter 12 - Damage Control Pt2

**Chapter 12 – Damage Control Part 2**

No one took any notice of the Asian man in electrician's overalls as he walked into the building and took the elevator to the third floor. The corridor was empty as he let himself into the end apartment of a rather dowdy building just south of the Thames. It took him less than forty seconds to pick the lock. Haven't they heard of security locks, Cho thought to himself. He let himself into the apartment and looked around. It wasn't anything spectacular. A small kitchen led off to the right. The bin was overflowing and a pile of unwashed dishes sat in the sink, the topmost being a half-finished plate of brown sludge. Cho grimaced and walked down the corridor passing a tiny bathroom that smelt of damp and mould, and the bedroom with it's unmade bed and piles of dirty clothes. The main room was small and clearly the domain of a single man. Cho put down his small tool box and studied the room. There was a small love-seat opposite a television. The coffee table was covered with copies of the worse kind of gutter reporting and half-finished cups of coffee, one of which seemed to be developing into an alien life-form. Cho wrinkled his nose and turned away.

Opening his tool kit he pulled out a small iron bar with two blue bands around it. He walked over to the desk with it's twin personal computers, scanner, printer. He knelt down and ran the high-powered magnet over the sides of the two CPU's that sat under the desk. Having taken care of the hard drives he puled out a metal detector and searched for back-ups. He found an external hard-drive hidden in a vase which was treated with another wave of the magnet. He then turned his attention to the shelves which contained a set of box files. He selected the one marked 'A-D' and found Castle's file along with a few others than made him raise his eyebrows. Castle's file contained hard copies of dozens of photographs as well as CD-ROMs. Cho gave a rueful smile. _A little old-school._ He replaced the box file and looked at the stereo system on the shelf beneath it. _Perfect!_ After five minutes with a screw-driver Cho replaced the unit with it's additional component, retrieved his tool kit and quietly let himself out of the flat.

The following day would find him sitting by the Thames in a quaint English pub sampling a beer that went by the odd name of Old Speckled Hen and reading a copy of the London Evening News which ran a small article on a freak electrical fire that had broken out in the home of a professional photographer called Miles Fergus who in certain circles went by the name of Slime. It seemed that the accident which hadn't caused any injuries or major damage, had unfortunately destroyed his entire portfolio of pictures. Shame, thought Cho to himself smiling as he tossed the paper to one side. He still had several hours ahead of him before he had to attend to the business that had brought him to London. Clay had raised an eyebrow when Cho had requested a couple of extra days to take care of some personal business but he hadn't asked any questions. How his staff spent their spare time was their business.

Cho still couldn't believe that the photographer had made it past him but at least now he was glad that he had finally been able to do something for the man he was supposed to have protected in Cannes. He had even had a little time to do some shopping. Cho sipped at the beer nodding appreciatively and picked up the Waterstone's bag and pulled out a copy of A Calm Before the Storm and settled down to read. He smiled. Rick was actually a pretty good writer.

.

Three and a half thousand miles away, Kate Beckett was hot. The temperature had risen exponentially during the day and the night was warmer than usual. She turned over and opened an eye to peer blearily at the clock on the night-stand. It indicated it was just after four in the morning. She groaned and flipped her pillow. Beside her Rick began to toss in his sleep. He had pushed the sheet down his body and Kate could see the yellowish brown of the bruises that still marred his skin and the faded marks that circled his wrists. She knew that, though he was healing nicely, his ribs still pained him. He moaned slightly. Kate pushed herself up on one elbow. His brow was drawn into a deep frown and she could see his eyes moving rapidly beneath his eyelids. He was dreaming again. He let out another moan and his head flicked to one side. "Nooo!" Kate could hear his breathing quicken coming in quick short pants. His skin glistened with sweat. "No! No! NO! ELENA!" Kate flinched as he screamed her name sitting bolt upright panting from the intensity of the dream.

"Rick!" He turned to look at her, confusion and panic in his eyes. "Babe, it's all right. It was just a dream."

"Kate?" Her heart constricted. He sounded so lost.

"It's okay. Just relax. It's okay. I'm here." She pushed him back down onto the pillows and snuggled into his side. He automatically put his arm around her and pulled her close burying his face in her hair, his breath hot on her scalp. "It was just a dream."

"Sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."

"It's okay." Kate bit her lip. This wasn't the first time it had happened. "Babe, you need to talk to someone."

"I'm fine."

She pushed herself up once more to look down at him. "No you're not. You need to talk to someone. I get it. After what happened I don't expect you to trust me but you have to find someone ..."

He cut her off. "No! Kate. I trust you. It's just that ..." He broke off and looked away.

"Rick please. Don't bottle this up. I can see it's eating away at you." She took a deep breath. "Talk to me please. Tell me about it." She knew she was taking a risk. She brushed his hair away from his brow and using the gentlest voice she could, said "Tell me about Elena."

He looked at her in surprise as though trying to work out how Kate knew her name. For a minute Kate didn't think he was going to say anything then suddenly he rolled over, wrapping both arms around her and buried his face in her stomach. She lay back against the pillows cradling his head and stroking his hair. Suddenly his whole body convulsed, and he let out a groan, a deep rumbling noise that seemed to emanate from deep within. It was as though his very soul was being ripped from him. Suddenly Kate felt scared not understanding what was wrong. She hardly dare breathe. His body shook as he tightened his arms around her. She felt a dampness soak into her nightshirt and she could feel his hot breath through the thin material. Though he made no sound she realized he was crying, deep ragged sobs that tore through his body. It was the hardest thing she had ever done but she forced herself to remain silent and wait until the crisis was over contenting herself to stroke his hair. Eventually his trembling ceased, the only sound in the loft being that of his breathing and her own heart pounding in her chest. He didn't raise his head. She knew he couldn't bear her to see him like this. So she waited. When he finally spoke, Kate was stunned.

"I betrayed her Kate."

She didn't know what to say not understanding what he meant. Without moving he began to speak, his voice hoarse and pained. "I betrayed Elena. I used her to get what I wanted. I walked in there like it was some kind of game. I led her on, drugged her and took what I needed and left her." She could hear his sharp intake of breath.

Kate continued to stroke his hair confused as to why he should care so much about the mistress of a dangerous arms dealer. "You did what you had to do," she said carefully.

"Elena's dead!"

Kate had no idea. "What? How?"

"There was a video link where they ..." he hesitated. "... held me. He had Elena with him. He wanted to know if she had helped me. I said no. I told him that it was all my doing, that she had no part in it." Rick's voice cracked. "But he did it anyway, Kate. He stood there without a single moment's hesitation or even a trace of emotion and he … he … he slit her throat. And there was nothing that I could do."

"Oh Rick!" Kate's heart almost broke at the pain in his voice. "It's not your fault."

He sat up suddenly and buried his head in his hands, his fingers gripping at his hair. When he turned to face her, the guilt and anguish was plain for her to see. "Isn't it? I walked in there Kate and used her like she was some kind of toy that you put back on a shelf when you're done. And she's dead because of me."

"Rick it's not your fault. You did it for the right reasons."

"No Kate I didn't." She flinched as anger flared in his eyes but that anger wasn't directed at her. "I can tell myself that I did what I did out of patriotism, or that because it was the right thing to do. Or that I did it for you and Alexis. And though I did do it for all those reasons I also did it because I wanted to. Because I wanted to be Derrick Storm. I wanted to be the guy that saved the world. I wanted to be the big damn hero ..." Kate felt the tears prickle at her eyes. "... and Elena is dead because of me. And that is something that I am going to have to live with for the rest of my life."

.


	14. Chapter 13 - Don't go!

**Chapter 12 – Don't go...**

Kate should have been happy. They had caught the killer of the man in the alley. In the end it nearly always came down to money and this had been no different. Fortunately Ryan and Esposito had relieved her of a lot of the ground work and freed up a little extra time for her to spend with Rick. Despite revealing to her what had been troubling him the nightmares continued and he often talked in sleep mingling Elena's name with her own and Alexis'. He was still troubled and she knew it. One lunchtime she had come back to the loft and caught him on the phone. She had only caught the tail end of the conversation.

"_... I can do this. You owe me that much. Let me finish what I started."_

Kate had tried to talk to him about it but he had changed the subject and then Alexis had arrived excited about suddenly being invited to vacation with a friend and her family in Hawaii, and the opportunity to talk had been lost.

The case now closed, she was determined to confront him about that and the other little problem that had been following her around for the past ten days. She approached the door to the loft and let herself in. She dropped her keys in the bowl on the credenza and kicked off her shoes relishing the feel of the cool floor beneath her aching feet. As she walked into the living room she spotted Rick's suit-carrier thrown over the back of the couch and his favourite battered leather weekend bag sitting next to it. She frowned in concern. He hadn't mentioned having to go away. She could hear him on the phone in his office.

As she approached, he turned and ended the conversation. "Kate's here. I have to go." He stood and tucked the phone into his pocket and walked round from behind his desk but not before he pulled a large white envelope from it's surface, looked at her intently and dropped it into a drawer. "Hey!"

"Hey! What's going on?"

Rick walked up to her and took her hands, gently rubbing his thumb over her engagement ring. "Kate, there's something I need to do."

She had been dreading this moment. Kate's heart fell. "Rick! Please don't do this."

Rick gave her a half-smile. "I haven't even told you what it is I'm going to do."

"You don't need to. You're going after the arms-dealer, the man who killed Elena."

Rick laughed but there was no humour behind it. "I guess I can't keep any secrets from you can I?"

"You think he's going to come after you?" Rick nodded. "Is that why you manufactured a sudden vacation for Alexis and a request for a visit from an old friend of your mother's? Is that why there's been two guys in dark suits following me around since you made our engagement public?"

"Oh! You noticed them huh?" Rick gave her a rueful smile. "Guess that's what comes from having a police detective for a girlfriend!" Kate arched her eyebrow and Rick sighed. "Kate, I know that, after Paris, I made a promise to you that I would never do anything like this without you. But now, I'm asking you … No! I'm begging you … to release me from that promise."

Kate felt tears prickle at the back of her eyes. "Let me come with you."

"You know I can't"

"You don't have to do this on your own."

"I won't be on my own." Rick smiled and wiped a tear from her cheek. "I have the best back-up team in the world … er … apart from you, Ryan and Esposito that is. Kate I have to do this. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you or Alexis or my mom. I have to put an end to this and I have the opportunity to do just that. I'm only going to get one shot and this is it. So Kate, I'm begging you, please tell me you understand."

She wanted to scream at him, to force him to stay but she knew that if she was in his shoes she would do the same thing. He was right. Slowly, despite every fibre of her being telling her not to, she nodded. He tipped her face to his and kissed her tenderly. "I love you Kate Beckett. I always have and I always will."

Then suddenly he was gone and Kate had never felt so alone in her life.

It wouldn't be until several hours later when she was sitting at his desk surfing the Internet that she remembered the envelope he had slipped into the drawer, the one on which he had written : "To be opened in the event of my death."

.

Rick stared out of the window as they passed a sign indicating the way to international departures. This time he didn't say anything to the driver as they turned off at an unmarked side-road, passed through a security barrier that raised automatically at their approach and drove down a plain unmarked asphalt strip that resembled a taxi-lane heading towards a large hangar.

Castle felt a now familiar knot of apprehension form in his stomach as the huge doors moved apart as if expecting them. The car rolled in through the gap and the doors closed behind them. As soon as they drew to a stop Rick got out and went round to the trunk to pull out his luggage and carry them onto the jet. Candy was waiting for him at the top of the steps.

"Hello again Mr Castle."

"Hello Candy."

"Everyone else is on board. We can take off as soon as you're ready sir." She opened a locker behind her for Rick to stow his luggage.

"Thanks Candy. I'm good to go."

Rick moved past her and into the cabin. The seven men, all dressed in a variety of casual wear, turned around the minute he stepped on.

"Ah here's our boy!"

Rick grinned. "Hey there Blowfish! How you doing?"

The huge man leaned back in his seat and grinned indicating that life was just peachy. "Sure as hell beats our usual form of transport. I could get used to this."

Demon stretched himself out playing with the buttons set into the arm-rest to recline the chair. "You guys really know how to travel in style." Wolf and Minefield nodded in agreement then all three twisted in their seats to follow Candy's progress down the gangway.

"Eyes front and centre gentlemen!" Digger glanced apologetically at Candy who merely giggled flattered by the attention. He rose from his seat opposite Spike who flipped a salute at Castle. "Hello Rick." He stuck out a hand which Castle took.

"Commander, I want to thank you boys for joining us on this."

"Noronov is way up there on our most wanted list and has been for some time. It is us who should be thanking you."

Candy put her head through the curtain. "Wheels up in twenty Mr Castle." Rick nodded his thanks and slipped into his seat. He arched an eyebrow as he read the title on the book the man opposite him was reading.

"They obviously didn't have much choice in the airport gift shop."

Cho looked at Rick over the top of his copy of Storm's Break. "Oh! It's not so bad. Guy's quite talented." They looked at one another for a moment then burst out laughing. "Good to see you again Rick," he said stretching out a hand.

"You too Cho. A little birdie tells me you were quite busy during your vacation." Cho smiled. "Thank you. I appreciate what you did."

Cho nodded. "The least I could do." His face creased into a frown. "You should have seen the stuff that little weasel had. He even had dirt on the prince ..."

Castle's eyes almost popped from his head. "What? You mean … the prince … the one I ..." He mimed shaking hands. Cho nodded. "Man, is nobody safe from this guy?" Cho shot him a look that told him clearly what he thought of the piranha paparazzi.

Digger leaned across the aisle. "Is there any news from our man on the ground?"

Cho nodded. "Preparations are under way." Cho glanced at Rick. "He's not happy about your involvement."

Rick grimaced. "That doesn't surprise me."

Minefield didn't look happy either. "I don't like going in there without my kit."

Digger glared at him. "We can hardly fly into Russia armed to the hilt. Customs might have something to say about that."

Cho leaned forwards. "He knows what you need and everything should be in place by the time we get there."

Wolf looked a little nervous. "Aren't the authorities going to be a little suspicious?"

Digger shook his head "Shouldn't be. We're there on legitimate business. We have all the necessary paperwork. We just have to make it look good. A couple of days play-acting then we hit Noronov and hit him hard. And we get out."

Demon grimaced "That's the bit I'm worried about. When the proverbial hits the fan won't they be all over us?"

Cho shook his head. "Even if they suspect we had anything to do with it, our contact on the ground says they're not likely to try too hard to find the culprits. It seems that Noronov is becoming a bit of an embarrassment that they would rather be rid of but he has too much clout in the Kremlin for them to take direct action. I think they'll probably be glad to see the back of him."

Digger nodded grimly. "Like I said, we get in, hit him so hard he can't get back up and get out."

"Seems to me ..." Wolf began, as usual getting straight to the heart of the matter. "...that getting into that fortress of Noronov's is going to be the hard part."

Digger looked round at the members of Seal Team Nine before facing Rick. "Well that's where our good friend Rick comes into play. Think you can do it?"

Rick Castle took a deep breath. "I did it once before. I can do it again." The knot in his stomach formed once more. He desperately hoped that what he said was true.

.


	15. Chapter 14 - On the ground

A/N : Once again thank you for the follows/favourites/reviews/messages. To steal a phrase from Geekmom, 'serial reviewers' – you guys are amazing and really make my day. Guests I would respond individually if I could but a little nod to Emily : you are right. I contemplated ending this story at the end of 'part two' and if readers have chosen to stop there, I don't blame them. I only chose to continue as I believe all bad guys should get their comeuppance! Also I suddenly find myself attached to Seal Team 9 and decided to give them a bit more page time. (But really, truth be told I can't resist writing a few more outrageous action scenes – OOC Rick coming up – you have been warned!)

**Chapter 14 – On the ground**

Irina Voslov narrowed her eyes as she stood behind the carved wooden bar polishing glasses. She eyed the group of Americans suspiciously, particularly the tall, muscular, black man with the brilliant smile and the impassively faced Asian. She could see her other patrons, all local men, eyeing them and their friends too. It was very unusual to see anything other than a white face in their small town nestled in the lee of a steep hill beside the Klyazma river. Irina had inherited the small hotel and bar from her father and though they had had the occasional back-backer from overseas it was the first time they had had such a big group of foreigners. And Irina Voslov was suspicious of foreigners.

The bell jingled and the door opened. Irina glanced across to see a slip of a boy with a wild brush of unruly black hair poke his head in. He bit his lip and looked around. Irina frowned wondering what her friend's idiot of a son was doing there. She was about to shoo him off when his eyes lit up as if spotting a jar of cookies. Quickly he stepped inside, closed the door and scooted across the bar weaving his way through the tables. Irina watched as he walked straight up to the table of Americans and stood in front of one of the men, the tall ruggedly handsome one, and held out a book.

_What was that idiot boy doing?_

Pavel's heart was racing as he put on his best smile. He had spent the best part of an hour in the public library with a dictionary. "Please Mister Richard Castle, write autograph in book. For Pavel." He held out the book willing his hands to stop shaking.

Richard Castle looked up from his beer to see an eager looking teenager in over-sized clothes holding what looked like a copy of Storm Warning though the title was in Cyrillic characters. He smiled encouragingly and took the book. "Sure. Pavel?" The boy nodded enthusiastically. Rick signed the book and handed it back ignoring the amused smiles of the others around the table. The boy looked like he had been given the moon.

"Thank you. Thank you Mister Richard Castle." He pronounced every letter in Rick's name. He turned and waved the book at the door. The eight Americans all turned to look. Four faces, their eyes as round as saucers, were watching them through the window over the top of the starched lace curtains. Pavel turned back to Rick.

"You vacation? See monastery?" Pavel asked referring to the region's most famous tourist site.

Rick shook his head. "No we're here to scout locations for a movie."

"Huh?"

Rick grinned and pointed to the men around the table and then to the book. "We're making a movie." He mimed making a film. It was like watching a light going on. Pavel's eyes lit up. He gabbled something excitedly in Russian and pointed at the book.

"Make Derrick Storm movie? Here?" He looked back at his friends unable to wait tell them the news. "Sorry to interrupt. I go now. Thank you. Thank you."

Rick nodded and held out his hand. Pavel's eyes almost fell out of his head at the gesture. He shook Rick's hand vigorously making sure his friends could see before turning and scooting out of the bar rapidly followed non too subtly by Irina. Through the window they could see Pavel showing her the back cover of the book and pointing towards Rick.

Digger laughed. "I think you just made his day."

Demon shook his head and reached for his beer. "Unbelievable! We're in the middle of nowhere and you've still got a fan club!"

Rick shrugged as Irina came back in and stopped by a table to whisper something. The three old Russians listened carefully and glanced at their table. Wolf watched them out the corner of his eye. "I think that should establish our cover nicely." One of them leaned over to his neighbour and whispered something who leaned to his neighbour. It was like watching a game of Chinese whispers.

Irina wandered over to their table, her former dour suspicious nature suddenly transformed into a beatific smiling hostess. She bestowed her best smile on Rick. He took pity on her and ordered another round of beer. The team had to smother their laughter as she virtually bobbed a curtsey before hurrying off to fulfil their order. "Looks like our Rick has another admirer," sniggered Demon.

Rick glared at them as amusement sparkled in their eyes. "Shut up!"

.

The following day, dressed in cargo pants and hiking boots they split into two groups to reconnoitre the area. The town was spread out along the river that formed its eastern boundary. The area to the south and west was mostly farmland that gave way to vast areas of grasslands. They wound their way through the town stopping occasionally to admire several of the large number of churches including the white stone Church of the Assumption with it's golden domes and columned porticoes. To the idle viewer they looked exactly like a film crew accompanied by two bodyguards. Digger had distributed the roles and decided there was no way that Blowfish and Cho would be taken for anything other than ex-military so they were assigned to 'protect' Rick much to the latter's amusement. Wolf decided that he would make the best artistic director and was perfectly happy to stand around framing various views with his thumbs and forefingers while Minefield indulged in his favourite hobby and snapped photographs making Digger roll his eyes in desperation at their antics. Demon and Spike spent their time writing notes on clipboards. If anyone happened to read what was written they would have been surprised to see notes on escape routes and sniper vantage points as opposed scenes from a movie. They were happy to discover that the town only had a minimal police presence and that nearest army base was over thirty miles away.

They had agreed to meet up just outside the town. As they headed north the land began to rise dramatically and the buildings thinned out to give way to heavily wooded areas bounded by swampland where the land fell towards the river and it's multitude of tributaries. Once they were alone they dropped the pretence. Digger consulted a map. "Okay we should be on the edge of the national park. There should be a hiking trail to our right just ahead that leads down to the river. That should give us the best view of Noronov's place."

A few minutes later they headed away from the road. The air was noticeably cooler once they were among the trees that formed a dappled canopy over their heads. They walked for half an hour following the winding trail that meandered down towards the water's edge. They emerged into a clearing that overlooked the broad fast-flowing river. A large area of fly-infested swamp bordered the river on both sides. Beyond the swamp on the other side of the river the land rose up sharply. Standing proudly atop the hill was Noronov's lair.

The six man Seal team, the CIA agent and Richard Castle stood in awe. Spike was the first to speak. "That is one helluva fortress!"

"Yes it is."

The eight men spun round, the Seal team automatically taking up fighting stances. Leaning nonchalantly against a tree was a tall man who looked to be in late sixties. He had a shock of white hair, a neat, tightly cut beard and his light brown eyes were fixed on Rick.

"Jeez Dad! You scared the shit out me."

Six heads slowly turned to look at Rick. "DAD?!"

Cho relaxed and stepped forward to shake hands. "Jackson."

"Hello Cho, good to see you again." He turned to the Seal Team. "Jackson Hunt at your service. I owe you all my thanks for your timely rescue of my son." Digger acknowledged his thanks with a handshake and introduced the team. "Well," he began with a pointed look at Rick. "Now that you're here we'd best get down to business." Digger and Wolf exchanged glances. It was clear Jackson Hunt was not happy with the plan and his son's involvement and they couldn't really blame him. Jackson pointed at the castle. "The castle was originally built in the fourteenth century to protect the town and valley below. A century later it changed from being a defence point, to simply a getaway for aristocracy which is when the annexe on the left was built. It was joined onto the main keep by a covered parapet walk. When Noronov acquired the castle some twenty years ago the first thing he did after restoring the annexe into living quarters was to open up one side of the parapet walk, install massive bullet-proof windows and install his own personal museum." He turned to Rick. "You saw his collection at the villa in Cannes? Well that's nothing compared to what he has here."

"That's where the party will be?"

Hunt nodded. "Yes once you're inside the gates, you'll be escorted into the main reception rooms of the annexe. There'll be the usual cocktails and buffet. The main event will take place in the museum." He pulled a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket and handed them to Rick. "All you have to do is find a socket and plug it in but it has to be in the museum. The annexe is on a different circuit. To bring down the security system it has to be on the same circuit."

Rick nodded pocketing the cigarettes and lighter. "Got it."

"What if they search him on the way in?" asked Wolf.

Hunt shook his head. "It's a risk we have to take. One end of the pack is open and has two real cigarettes. Rick, I suggest you play it cool and light up if they seem suspicious."

Rick smiled. "I thought parents weren't supposed to encourage their kids to smoke."

His father gave him a half-smile before turning deadly serious. "Look, Rick you're taking a helluva risk..."

"Dad! We've been over this already. You and I know both know there's only one way in and that's through the front gate. We can't mount a full-scale assault so someone has to go in, take down the security system, set off the diversion and then you can walk in and get what you need."

"There's no guarantee he'll let you in."

Rick huffed. "Oh he'll let me in, don't you worry about that."

"He could shoot on the spot."

"What? In front of fifty odd witnesses? Not even Noronov is that stupid."

They could see that Hunt wasn't happy but no one dared to interfere. "You might not make it out."

Rick sighed. "I know that but it's a risk I'm going to have to take. If all goes to plan I should be able to make a run for it with the other guests once I've set off the diversion..."

"And if it doesn't go to plan?"

"RICK!" Both men turned at Digger's urgent whisper. "We're not alone."

Glancing around, all seemed quiet but Rick noticed that Demon had mysteriously disappeared. All of a sudden there was a shout and the sound of breaking branches. This was followed by a yell and what sounded like a string of Russian expletives. A few seconds later Demon appeared from behind a large thicket dragging a young man by the scruff of his neck. He pushed him into the circle of men.

Rick's jaw dropped. "Pavel?"

Hunt looked surprised. "You know this kid?"

Rick rubbed his jaw wondering how on earth the kid had managed to find them. "Yeah!"

Blowfish smiled. "He's Rick's number one fan."

Pavel looked nervously around the group before settling his eyes on Rick. "I know why you here. You not here to make movie. You here to kill Grigori Noronov."

The nine men all glanced at one another nervously. Rick smiled. "Look Pavel, you've got it wrong ..."

"No Pavel not wrong. You secret agent. You kill Noronov … and I help," he said determinedly jutting out his chin much to the astonishment of his audience. Rick didn't know what to say. Pavel continued, his eyes burning fiercely. ""Noronov bad man. He kill many people. He kill Elena."

Rick felt the blood drain from his face as he stared at the young man. "What...?" he began but then it struck him. He should have seen it before. The same high cheekbones, the same dark eyes, the thick dark hair. "Elena," he murmured. Cho's face was rigid as the Seal team looked at one another in confusion wondering who Elena was and why that name would have such an effect on Rick.

Pavel straightened himself to his full height. "I help you. You help me ..." he hesitated searching for a word "...revenge ..." he paused again looking at Rick uncertainly.

Rick knew what he was trying to say. "Avenge," he offered quietly.

Pavel nodded. "Yes … avenge. You help me avenge my sister."

.


	16. Chapter 15 - Infiltration

A/N : THANK YOU for the all the messages of support especially after another rather damning guest review. You guys are amazing and really make my day. I am so glad that many of you are enjoying this story.

Guest: I can't respond individually and given how 'ridiculous' this story is I imagine you have stopped reading. I'm all for freedom of speech and taking the criticism with the praise but please remember that, unlike the characters in this story, I am a real person with real feelings. I appreciate you taking the time to give feedback though I would like to have seen it written that in a more constructive manner. But I get it. You don't like this story and that's okay. There are a lot of great writers on this web site. I don't pretend to be one of them.

I write for fun but right now, to be honest, I'm not having fun so I have 'put a rush' on the final chapters of this story and will publish them all in one go so I can bow out gracefully. Thanks to everyone who has read this story. Hope you enjoy the end and in the words of the great Douglas Adams. "So long and thanks for all the fish!"

**Chapter 15 – Infiltration**

Irina Voslov lifted her eyes from the racy romance novel she was reading and watched Richard Castle walk past the bar on his way out of the hotel. She pursed her lips. Such a handsome man, she thought to herself as she imagined herself as the heroine of one of her books ripping off that dinner suit and exploring what was underneath.

Rick smiled at Irina politely and headed straight for the door. _Why did get the feeling she was undressing him with her eyes?_ Outside Pavel stood to attention holding open the rear passenger door for Rick. Rather than his usual over-sized clothes he looked quite smart in his chauffeur's outfit. The two men glanced back at the hotel where they could see Irina leaning over the bar watching them. "Irina like you," Pavel stated grinning as Castle grimaced.

"I'm spoken for!" Rick stated firmly as he got in. Pavel closed the door and hopped into the driver's seat. He started the car and pulled away crunching the gears as he accelerated. "Er … Pavel you do know how to drive don't you?" Rick asked wondering if the kid was even old enough to drive.

"No problem. I drive good. I got licence, see?" He picked up a piece of paper and waved it in the air. "You no worry. Very good fake."

_FAKE?_ Rick pinched the bridge of his nose and wondered if his original plan wouldn't have been better. His intention had simply been to goad Noronov into letting him in by driving up to the gates and giving the security guard a copy of Elena's photograph with a message for Noronov. Pavel, however, had other ideas. He worked at the local printers and they had printed the invitations for Noronov's party. So the previous night, Pavel, Rick and Demon had crept out of the hotel. Demon had picked the lock and kept watch while Pavel had taken Rick inside and started up the printing machine. Rick had almost had a heart attack at the noise it had made but Pavel had assured him that the only person who lived near enough to hear was stone deaf. Pavel had printed off an extra invitation which he now had in his pocket.

The drive took only fifteen minutes so it wasn't long before they were pulling up to the first set of gates. A heavy set guard with a permanent snarl walked up to them. Pavel wound down the window and held out the invitation. The guard checked it against his list and nodded. He peered into the back looking at Rick. Rick didn't dare speak. He merely held the guard's gaze. For a moment he thought the guard was going to say something when blinding lights shone in his face forcing him to blink and shield his eyes. The guard straightened up to see another car arriving. He handed back the invitation and waved them through.

Pavel started up the hill towards the castle. "See. No problem. I tell you it good plan." Rick had to agree.

.

Passing through the huge gates set into the castle wall, the car pulled up in the brightly lit courtyard. Pavel jumped out and ran round to the passenger door. He stood to attention as Rick got out. "No turn round. Camera behind you," he hissed.

"Thanks Pavel. Now you get out of here. Okay?"

Pavel nodded. "Okay!" Keeping his head down Rick walked straight up the steps past the two sentries who barely gave him a second look. He paused for a moment to take in his surroundings. The lobby was immense. High above his head a gigantic crystal chandelier illuminated the scene below. Groups of well-dressed men and women stood around conversing quietly, drinking champagne from tall flutes or discussing various pieces of art that decorated the walls. A beautifully carved wooden staircase rose up to the right and ahead of him stood a table with an enormous floral arrangement that must have held well over five hundred individual blooms. Circumnavigating the room Rick took in every detail including the two cameras and the motion sensors on the windows and doors. He scooped up a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and headed to the far end of the hall where a huge set of wooden doors stood open allowing guests to enter the rooms beyond. The sconces in the walls gave the series of rooms a warmer glow than the brightly lit foyer. Each room was handsomely furnished with velvets and brocades. Fires crackled brightly in the grates and the walls were hung with a variety of masterpieces.

Rick tried to avoid eye contact. He couldn't afford to be drawn into conversation with anyone, his Russian limited to asking directions and ordering beer. According to their intel the main event would take place at nine o'clock precisely. Glancing at an overly ornate Ormolu clock displayed over the fireplace, Rick discovered he only had ten minutes to wait so he tried to remain as discrete as possible and prayed that his luck would hold out. A guard, his earpiece dangling somewhat obviously, wandered past so Rick turned away pretending to admire a particularly graphic representation of Delilah's betrayal of Samson.

Rick froze as someone tapped him on the shoulder. _Oh God, he had only needed another eight minutes._ Rick turned around surprised to find himself face to face not with the guard but with a tall gangly man with greased-back, mousy-brown hair, huge horn-rimmed glasses and the most hideous bow tie Rick had ever seen.

"I say … aren't you that writer chappie?"

Rick flinched surprised by the pompous, upper-crust British accent. He forced a smile. "Richard Castle."

"Ah! Knew it. Rupert Edgarton Jones at your service." The man stuck out a hand. "Do come and let me introduce you to the others. We ex-pats have to stick together you know." He stuck out an arm indicating a small group of people by the window. Rick smiled and walked across the room with him. "This is Delia … I'd tell you her surname but it's unpronounceable." Rupert Edgarton Jones snorted with laughter. Literally. "Delia here teaches English at the local college and is currently writing a book on the region's architecture, churches and whatnot. Not quite as fun as the stuff you write, what?" Delia, a pale faced woman with huge blue eyes, looked a little miffed.

"Always a pleasure to meet a fellow writer." Rick smiled deciding to make up for the unintended slight by raising her hand to his lips. Delia giggled prettily batting her eyelashes at Rick while he contemplated the powder-blue bag she had clearly mistaken for a dress.

"And this is Major Matherson," Rupert presented a portly man with handle-bar moustache wearing a navy blue blazer with a military insignia that looked a little worn around the cuffs. "And his wife Svetlana." Matherson shook Rick's hand firmly while his wife hid mouse-like behind him. She merely smiled and nodded.

"What brings you here Mr Castle? Come to admire Noronov's collection?"

Rick nodded. "Yes. I've heard it's quite impressive."

"Second to non, dear boy. One of the finest private collections in the world."

"Are you a collector?" Rick asked.

Matheson huffed for a moment and Svetlana looked at the ground. "No, not really but I have … er … acquired one or two pieces over the years. I thought Noronov might be interested in adding to his collection. I heard he was always on the lookout for new pieces." Rick read between the lines. A retired army major down on his luck hoping that a rich collector would pay generously for a few wartime knick-knacks.

Rick glanced at the clock. Almost nine. The guard passed again glancing in their direction. Rick ducked his head "I hear that his newest acquisition is a particularly fine example."

Rupert Edgarton Jones drew himself up preening like a peacock. "The finest. Took me quite a while to track them down, I can tell you. Exquisite workmanship and the most exceptional engraving. And in their original case. Quite beautiful in itself. I was most excited when I discovered that the owner wished to sell. I knew that Mr Noronov would be interested the minute he set eyes on them."

"Is it true that he intends to give a demonstration?" asked Delia excitedly.

Edgarton Jones looked disapproving. "Yes." he huffed irritably. "I believe he's invited a former Olympic champion to spar with him." He glanced over Rick's shoulder to where a sharp-featured man in his late thirties was holding court to several ladies.

"You disapprove?"

"Well of course, I disapprove. They're one of the finest examples of French nineteenth century workmanship … not toys!" Edgarton Jones was beside himself with righteous indignation but wasn't able to continue as a loud voice called out in Russian and people began to file from the room.

.

On the main floor of the keep Yvan Skaronski stood behind a young, serious-faced guard who was monitoring the security cameras. He watched as people filed past towards the staircase that led to the museum. "Bogdan said he was with that Englishman," the guard rumbled. "Pretty sure he was American."

"An American? How did he get in?"

The guard shrugged. "I don't know. He must have had an invitation. All the guests are accounted for."

"All?" Yvan frowned. A thought struck him. "Even Mikhaelov?" The guard nodded. Yvan swore. He knew for a fact that the town official was in the hospital.

"There! There he is! The tall man. See?" The guard pointed to a face. Yvan peered at the screen, his eyes widening in astonishment. The young man cringed as Yvan let out a string of obscenities involving removal of bodily parts and stormed from the room.

.

Grigori Noronov was limbering up. He was looking forward to the evening. He wasn't one for social occasions but once or twice a year he invited various people who he wanted either to impress or to intimidate, and he usually used the occasion as an excuse to show off his fantastic array of weapons. He was particularly fond of blades and intended to demonstrate his skill to impress a woman he had selected to replace Elena.

He donned his jacket over his shirt and white brocade waistcoat, admiring himself in the mirror. A sharp rap came at the door announcing the arrival of Yvan who appeared enraged. "He's here!"

Noronov glared at his subordinate. "Who's here?"

"That bastard Castle!"

Noronov blinked. "Castle? Richard Castle? Here?" Yvan nodded waiting for his boss to explode. However, Grigori Noronov did the exact opposite. He smiled. "Well, well. Our Mister Castle is turning out to be a most remarkable man." He turned back to the mirror to brush an imaginary speck from his jacket. "You know I thought that he was merely a second-rate writer of airport thrillers who occasionally dabbled for the CIA." He turned back to Yvan. "It seems I have seriously underestimated him. There's more to our Mister Castle than meets the eye."

"I'll get Bogdan to pick him up."

Noronov held up a hand. "No! Tell him to cover the the exit. Come Yvan. I think it's time to teach this meddling mystery writer a lesson."

.

Jackson Hunt crouched next to Cho and Digger, all three men well hidden in the thick undergrowth. He checked his watch. Again. Digger and Cho exchanged glances. "What's he doing? It's taking too long."

Digger focussed his scope on the castle gates. The guard was still in the gatehouse keeping an eye on the screens which gave his face an eerie blue glow. "The system is still up."

Cho barely moved. "It's only been fifteen minutes since Noronov was supposed to call everyone to the museum. It takes time for them to assemble. He's probably giving a speech."

"I don't like it," muttered Jackson.

"He'll be fine. Rick can handle himself. He's already proved that." Jackson turned to look at Cho surprised by the Asian's faith in his son.

Digger touched his throat mike. "Team one report."

Demon's voice echoed in their ear-pieces. "Something must be going down. The guard on the wall had stopped patrolling. He seems real interested in something."

"Team two? Spike you got eyes on our boy?"

About half a mile away Blowfish was giving Spike a leg up. Spike balanced himself on Blowfish's shoulders and then hauled himself up into the tree. "Just a minute commander. Almost there." Spike struggled to get a hold on the moss-covered branch. Below him Blowfish turned around and leaned against the tree, his weapon at the ready. From high up on the nearby hill, Blowfish could see almost the entire edifice, the keep now on the left and the brightly lit parapet walkway standing out in the black of the night. He looked up to see Spike scrambling up the tree above his head. The kid selected a wide branch and lay down.

Spike pulled a scope from his pocket and shuffled forward grimacing as a twig embedded itself into his flesh. "Aie! Not again!" he muttered. He snapped it off and hooked an ankle around a branch to free up his hands. There was just enough elevation to give him a view over the north wall. "Okay in position."

Digger's voice hissed in his ear. "What's going on Spike? Can you see Rick?"

Spike tried to focus the scope on the parapet walkway. The image jiggled and bounced as he tried to steady his arm and focus on the large brightly lit windows. An image of a woman appeared. Spike adjusted the focus and the image sharpened. He swung the scope slowly to his left. People were stood with their backs to the windows, their attention drawn by something or someone in the centre of the room. Spike lifted the scope slightly and modified the zoom to give him a wider view. He gasped. "WHOA! Er … yeah! I can see him."

"Is he okay?"

"Er … yeah, he's …" Spike blinked as he gazed through the eyepiece not quite sure he was able to believe what he was seeing. "...fine!"

"Can you tell if he's managed to plug in the device?"

"It's hard to say," Spike muttered as he watched fascinated.

"Why? What's he doing?"

"Er … well … you're not going to believe this …"

"SPIKE! What the hell is Rick up to?"

Spike cringed. "Er … he appears to be … fighting a duel."

.


	17. Chapter 16 - Duel

**Chapter 16 – Duel**

Rupert Edgarton Jones had been right about one thing. The pieces he had procured for Noronov were magnificent. In fact Richard Castle was green with envy. The nineteenth century duelling sword or épée de combat that he held in his hand was the finest French craftsmanship he had ever seen. The cup-shaped guard fitted snugly over his fist despite the size of his hands and the leather covered grip felt as though it had been made for him.

Noronov's attack was aggressive but Rick allowed his opponent's blade to coule, the blade making a high-pitched screech as it slid against his own. The two hilts clashed and Rick found himself almost nose to nose with Noronov but Rick had the advantage of height and weight over his opponent and as the swords locked he was able to push him away and gain a little distance. Noronov nimbly back-stepped too in order to maintain his balance and make it possible for a rapid recovery to on guard.

The two men eyed one another . Rick could feel a ripple of disquiet pass over the spectators. After a relatively graceful start, Noronov's guests were beginning to get the feeling that there was a little more to this demonstration.

.

_Rick had been overwhelmed by his first sight of Noronov's museum, if that's what it was. To Rick's mind it was a veritable salle d'armes containing every kind of weapon possible from every century and every continent. There was everything from an Indian chakram to a medieval spiked flail. There were even a few Rick didn't recognise and he considered himself to be a bit of an expert on the subject. On entering the room Rick had tried to keep to the periphery as the other guests crowded closer to see their host. Noronov had entered from the far end of the museum, through huge studded wooden doors that Rick knew led to the keep. Noronov had begun his speech in Russian. Rick hadn't understood much other than the word welcome but Delia had happily translated for the others._

_As Rick had stood behind Delia half-listening to her stammered translation he realized that he was standing next to a large glass-fronted cabinet which was plugged into the wall allowing the items on display to be backlit. Quickly he had pulled the cigarette packet and lighter out of his pocket. He ripped off the paper and extracted the small device that looked like a miniature night-light for a child's bedroom. Glancing around to ensure that everyone was focussed on Noronov, he bobbed down and jammed it into a spare socket. He had just managed to stand up again when he heard Noronov change to English._

"_... my very good friend Richard Castle."_

_Very slowly Delia, Rupert and the Mathersons turned around to stare at him. Like the parting of the Red Sea the people in front of them moved to either side leaving Rick exposed in their midst to stare across the room at Noronov. On one side of him stood Yvan. He looked a lot like his cousin right down to the shaved head and goatee. Rick cringed as he could see in his face that he liked sport too. The sharp-featured man on the other side of Noronov was glaring daggers at Rick. Clearly, the former Olympic fencing champion was not happy at being upstaged. _

_Noronov took off his jacket and handed it to Ivan who laid it on a chair against the wall, a high-backed wooden chair, intricately carved with psychedelic geometric patterns. Rick's eyes narrowed as he recognized it, his stomach twisting itself into knots. Noronov smiled as he pulled at the side tabs on his unusually designed waistcoat. Rick raised an eyebrow. Chest protector huh? Clearly Noronov wasn't taking any chances._

"_Come now Mister Castle! Don't be shy! I know for a fact that you are a sporting man. Let us provide some sport for our guests." Noronov turned to the long wooden box that a footman was holding and pulled out one of the swords that lay nestled in the velvet interior. He turned to face Rick._

_Rick hesitated for a moment. He fingered the lighter in his hand but found he couldn't take his eyes of that chair. His mind made up, he pushed the lighter into his trouser pocket and unbuttoned his jacket. He pushed his way past Matherson and strolled up to a suit of armour that stood guard beside the door to the annexe. Noronov stood at the other end of the room as the footman made his way towards Rick carrying the box. Rick looked at the armour which was as tall as he was. It had been pinned together with the hands poised on an enormous broadsword that stood vertical with its tip to the ground. Rick cheekily hung his coat on the sword and turned just as the footman arrived and held out the box._

_Rick picked up the sword, testing it for a moment in his hand. He held it out looking down the length of the blade. The engravings on the hilt and the blade shone in the light as he tested its manipulability. The blade was straight and sharp. This was no sabre designed for flashy swash-buckling cinematic stunts performed by prime-time actors. It was a beautifully designed weapon made for men who fought not for the sake of killing but to gain satisfaction, to restore their honour by demonstrating a willingness to risk their life for it. _

_Rick turned to face Noronov and smiled._

_At first Noronov had though that Castle would back down but he had only been mildly surprised when Rick had chosen to take up his challenge. He had decided that he would play with him for a while and then appear to accidentally wound him, just enough that he could insist that they exit the room under the pretext of taking care of the wound. However, Grigori Noronov had unwittingly made an enormous mistake. He had assumed that the big American playboy author liked baseball and football and basketball, all those television spectator games. What he didn't realize was that Richard Castle loved swords and that his favourite sport was fencing._

_Noronov watched as Castle lifted the sword from the box, tested the blade, eyeing it with a critical eye, his movements smooth and practised. Then Rick looked Noronov directly in the eye and smiled. Not just any smile but a tiny movement of the lips that spoke of a quiet confidence and intimated just a hint of a challenge. And Noronov began to regret his decision._

.

As Castle pushed him away Noronov nimbly back-stepped in order to maintain his balance and make it possible for a rapid recovery to on guard. The two men eyed one another. Noronov could feel a ripple of disquiet pass through the crowd watching. He sensed rather than saw one or two sidling away towards the doors. He focussed his attention on Rick who was turning out to be a more challenging opponent that he had first anticipated and had even managed to get a first touch. Because he had been wearing a specially designed protector, it hadn't injured him but it had hurt his pride. He decided to go on the attack once more. Stepping up his cadence Noronov attempted a complicated sequence of feints and thrusts to which Rick responded with a series of parries and counter-attacks.

The blades clashed with ever-increasing speed. Castle was good but not that good. Noronov got lucky and as he forced Rick into a ceding parry, he quickly whipped his blade up and ripped through Rick's shirt sleeve just above his elbow. Rick hissed with pain and Noronov grinned evilly, delighted at his first hit. Several of the women in the crowd gasped with shock as blood began to soak through the crisp white cotton. Rather than declaring first blood, Noronov pressed his advantage lunging at Rick forcing him back. He thrust with the blade repeatedly forcing Rick to parry over and over with scarcely a chance to riposte. Their blades met time and again, and the two men were forced once more corps-a-corps.

Rick used his superior height and strength to his advantage and pushed Noronov away but Noronov was agile and swift, and he recovered quickly. Rick knew that he faced a better opponent. Noronov's blade had nicked the flesh of his upper arm and it stung like hell. He could feel the blood trickling down his arm but Rick wasn't about to give in. He had one last trick up his sleeve. He waited for Noronov to come at him again. He allowed him a couple of moves then he let his blade sway and he tightened his muscles in anticipation.

Given a thirst for blood, Noronov saw the opening and went in for a thrust straight at Rick's mid-riff. Noronov's blade struck his sternum. The crowd gasped in horror. Rick grunted at the force from the blow. Noronov, however, frowned not understanding why the foible of the blade bowed. Rick grinned. "You're not the only one wearing a vest!" Noronov stepped back in amazement unable to comprehend why his blade hadn't penetrated Rick's heart With a deft movement Rick lunged, flicked his wrist and executed a smash of his sword's forte against Noronov's blade forcing the weapon from his hand. The Russian stared in amazement as the sword flew through the air to clatter loudly on the floor. He turned back to Rick just in time to see a massive fist heading straight for his jaw.

Swapping the sword to his other hand, Rick stuck a hand in his pocket and pulled out the lighter. He flipped it open and pressed down. The module in the socket activated releasing a powerful electrical discharge. The circuits couldn't cope, sparks flew and the museum's electrics overloaded. The room was plunged into darkness.

.

Half a mile away Spike almost fell out of a tree. "AWESOME!"

Cho grinned as he watched the lights in the keep go out. "Nice!"

Digger was already on his feet as he gave his teams the go-ahead. He made a bee-line for the gate-house. The guard hadn't even had the time to comprehend why all his screens had suddenly gone blank when the door behind him opened and a shadowy figure wrapped an arm around his throat. Thirteen seconds later he was lowered to the floor and Digger slipped out to see Jackson Hunt stick a small square of C4 to the gates. The three men turned their faces away as it exploded flinging the gates apart.

Digger grinned. "Let's do this."

.


	18. Chapter 17 - End Game

**Chapter 17 - End game**

As soon as the lights were out, Rick reluctantly dropped his sword and retrieved his jacket dodging out of the way of the guests who, panicked by the black-out and showers of sparks coming from the various electrical points, had stampeded for the doors. Rick blinked in the half-light trying to spot Yvan and Noronov but they were nowhere to be seen. Rick ran for the studded wooden doors that led to the keep and pulled at the handle but it was locked. He looked around wondering if there was something he could use to force the door. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom he could see that the room had emptied with the exception of one man silhouetted in the doorway. Rick screwed up his eyes as the figure approached. It was the guard that had spotted him downstairs, a triumphant grin on his face. Rick felt a moment of panic as the guard stuck his hand inside his jacket.

The lock clicked open behind him and a voice hissed at him. "Come! Quick!" Stunned, Rick spun round.

"Pavel?"

"Come!" The boy grabbed his sleeve and yanked him through the door locking it again as a series of sharp reports sounded from the other side and the door rattled with bullets. "Wow! That close!"

Rick turned on the boy."I told you to get out."

Pavel glared at him stubbornly. "You not get out either. When Rick Castle go, I go!" Rick cringed as the door behind him vibrated as the guard pounded on it from the other side and rattled the handle. Rick looked around. They were on a small landing that gave onto a vast space that was set out as a gym cum training room. At the far end a door stood open. "Way out," stated Pavel. "Castle walls. Guard …" Pavel drew a finger across his throat.

"Did you see where Noronov went?" Pavel pointed to the left. Rick looked at the winding stairs leading up and then back at the door knowing that he should get out but there was something he had to do and he couldn't risk Pavel. "Okay, here's the plan. Team one will be coming up the wall. Get over to the door and get them in here. I'm going to see if I can find out where Noronov went." Pavel looked unsure for a moment. "Pavel, trust me please?" Pavel nodded reluctantly and headed towards the door.

Rick took a deep breath and headed towards the stairs. He paused and looked back at the training room. Just inside the door was a rack with a number of sticks. Rick smiled.

.

The minute Digger gave the order, Seal Team nine sprang into action. Demon took out the guard patrolling the north wall, his silenced weapon making a loud pop. As soon as the guard went down Minefield jumped up and fired the grappling hook. Demon didn't move until Minefield and Wolf had scaled the wall and given the okay. Then he slung the rifle over his shoulder and headed after them. As soon as he arrived Wolf tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to two guards crossing the courtyard running in the opposite direction to the guests who were beginning to flood out of the doors from the annexe. With a series of hand gestures, Demon indicated he would take care of the guards while Wolf was to accompany Minefield.

.

Blowfish jogged down the hill towards the cars followed by Spike. "He was totally awesome!" whispered Spike. "I mean ... Errol Flynn meets James Bond."

Blowfish rolled his eyes as he pulled open the door. Just his luck to miss all the fun. "Well never mind Richard Castle, make like Richard Petty."

Spike paused with his hand on the door. "Who?"

Blowfish rolled his eyes again. _Kids these days!_ "Seven NASCAR championships, seven Daytona 500 and a record streak of ten consecutive victories."

Spike looked a little confused. "Oh! Car racing?"

"JUST DRIVE!" Blowfish got into his car and slammed the door. "Car racing? Car racing? Gotta educate that kid!" he huffed as they sped down the road towards the castle.

.

Digger, Cho and Hunt arrived in the courtyard just as Demon had finished discretely dispatching the two guards. Demon beckoned them over. "Wolf and Minefield are sweeping the keep. Three neutralized."

"Any sign of Rick?" Digger asked, surprised not to have seen him among the guests running for their cars. Demon shook his head. "Where the hell has he got to? All right! Demon with me!" They headed for the annexe doors that stood wide open. Digger signalled for Cho and Hunt to wait. He covered the door while Demon checked the lower floor. After a few seconds he gave the all clear and the four men headed towards the upper floor. The museum was a mess. A strong smell of burnt plastic permeated the air. Several displays had been knocked over and the doors ahead of them were peppered with bullet holes.

Digger approached the door carefully indicating to the others to hang back. and reached for the handle casting a quick glance at Demon who was covering him. As his fingers touched the metal it was pulled out of his hand and the barrel of a gun appeared. Digger flinched. Immediately the barrel snapped up.

"Whoa! Sorry Commander." Wolf stuck his head through the door. Demon muttered something about nearly blowing his head off.

Digger indicated that they should stand down. "Wolf. Status?"

"Two neutralized. Minefield's checking downstairs."

Digger nodded and stepped through the doorway. His eyes opened wide as he spotted Pavel lurking in the background. "Pavel? What are you doing here? Where's Rick?" Pavel pointed up the stairs. Digger grimaced as Hunt let loose with a short diatribe on the stubbornness of his only son.

They all turned as footsteps echoed from the stairwell. Minefield appeared, a glint in his eye. "Sir, you have GOT to see this."

.

Jackson Hunt was not one for following orders. He watched as Digger followed Minefield down the stairs, the others ordered to wait. He turned and headed for the stairs, his gun in front of him. The narrow stone stairs spiralled away to the right giving him the disadvantage if someone was ontheir way down so he hugged the wall and listened but all was silent. He felt movement behind him and turned. Cho held his gaze with a determined look. Jackson nodded and the two men continued onward and upward. They found themselves in a lobby similar to the one below, a curved stone wall to their right and large double doors to their left. A guard lay sprawled on his face in the doorway. Hunt approached and felt for a pulse. It was steady and in the semi-darkness he could see a matted mass of hair. Someone had hit him hard. The guy would wake up with one big headache. Hunt crept up to the door and peered into the obscurity beyond.

The space had been split into two. The room immediately beyond was a control centre with a bank of monitors for the surveillance system and several desks with computers. A door stood open at the far side, the lower half of a second body lay just beyond, the dark trousers and dress shoes visible in the soft yellow glow. Hunt and Cho rushed across, their footsteps silent on the carpeted floor. They peered around the door looking down at the man half expecting to see Rick.

It was Ivan. His nose had been smashed and blood run down his face. Hunt stared down at him then he lifted his gun and pushed the door slowly open. He flinched as a shadow launched itself from behind the door.

"Jeez! Dad!" Rick lowered his weapon. "I almost crowned you."

Hunt frowned at the blood on Rick's sleeve. "You okay?"

Rick nodded. "Yeah but next time you offer me body armour, I'll take the long-sleeved kind."

Hunt raised an eyebrow at the stick in Rick's hand. "What is that?"

Rick hefted the piece of wood. "Bandy stick. National sport. Played by Russians with small balls." He grinned like a school-boy. Hunt glared at his son but the normally straight-faced Cho couldn't help sniggering. Rick suddenly turned serious, the look on his face clearly showing he was disgusted with himself. "Noronov's gone. I don't know where. He must have slipped past me while Yvan and I were ..."

Rick broke off a Hunt raised a hand. "Wait! What's that?" The sound of an engine floated in through an open casement window. Cho ran over to the turret windows set into the north-east corner of the room and peered out.

"Shit! Chopper!"

"What?" Hunt and Rick ran to join him. Below them nestled in a clearing was a helicopter. It's blades were just beginning to rotate. Hunt ran a hand through his hair. "How the hell did we not know about that?"

Cho put a hand to his throat-mike. "Commander, you read me?"

"What's up?" Digger's voice crackled in their ears.

"Noronov has got a chopper in the forest just north of here." Cho slammed a hand against the window in frustration as the chopper began to lift off the ground. "He's getting away."

Digger's voice came back. "No worries. We got it. Just get what you came for and get out. You've got five minutes."

Rick glared out of the window and swore. He turned to go but Hunt reached out a hand and grabbed Rick's arm. "No Rick. We have a job to do. We've got five minutes. Let's get what we came for."

"But Dad … I have to ..." Hunt could see the pain in his son's face.

"Would you let Pavel do it?" Hunt asked quietly. Rick didn't answer but Hunt saw the answer in his face. "Don't go down that road son. Let the team take of Noronov."

Reluctantly Rick nodded. "I'll take the safe." At the look of surprise on his father's face. "Trust me. I'm getting good at this."

Cho nodded. "I'll take the office." He headed for the door just as Spike and Blowfish arrived. Blowfish did a double-take as he saw the bodies on the floor. He looked questioningly at Cho. Cho held his hands up. "Not me. It seems our Rick like to play bandy."

Blowfish's face creased into a questioning frown. Cho grinned. "According to Rick it's a game played by Russians with small balls." Blowfish grinned. "Do me a favour and get these guys outta here. Don't want any unnecessary casualties."

An enormous explosion made the room shake. Everyone froze. Blowfish looked at Spike and they both trilled. "Minefield!".

.


	19. Chapter 18 - A bit of a bang

**Chapter 18 – A bit of a bang**

The fireball rose into the night air. For a moment the three members of Seal Team 9 and a young Russian boy by the name of Pavel Morovski stood on the castle wall transfixed by the sight. As the ashes and debris from the helicopter began to fall on the forest below, Digger put his hand on the boy's shoulder. Pavel looked up at him, tears in his eyes. He nodded his thanks. "Time to go." He turned to Minefield who was delighted with the performance of the man-portable infrared homing surface-to-air missile in his hands.

"Wow! It's even better than the Stinger. Gotta get me one of these."

Wolf rolled his eyes. "No souvenirs!"

"Minefield, go work your magic downstairs. No one can get their hands on those weapons. Wolf, Demon, make sure there's no one left in the compound. I want everyone out of here in five minutes." He glanced down into the courtyard where the two cars stood waiting for them. "I'm going to check on the others."

The men split up, Digger heading for the stairs up to the top floor of the keep. He passed Blowfish on the way down with a guard slung over his shoulder. "Make sure they're all well away from here. No unnecessary casualties." Blowfish nodded. When Digger reached the upper floor, he found Cho and Spike divesting the computers of their hard-drives. He paused on the threshold to the office. The word opulent didn't even come close. The leather chairs and high-polished wooden surfaces were complemented with rich brocade furnishings and beautifully crafted wall hangings. There were oil paintings and sculptures, suits of armour and a variety of weapons, the choicest pieces kept for Noronov's personal study. Rick was stood to one side of the desk. He had removed a painting and was busy pulling items from a wall safe into a hard-backed silver briefcase. His father was picking the lock on a drawer in the desk.

Hunt grunted in satisfaction as the drawer opened. He pulled out some files. He flicked through them. Rick turned round in triumph. "Got it!" He waved a slim leather bound book. "The ledger!" He glanced at a page. "Every transaction..." He nodded at the files Hunt was pulling from the drawer.

"Financials," Hunt grinned as he threw the files in the case. Rick added the ledger and closed the lid.

Digger looked at his watch. "Two minutes, gentlemen."

"We're good to go." They all headed for the door but not before Rick pulled one last item from the safe and slipped it into his pocket. Within minutes they were all back at the cars.

The members of Seal team got into the cars and waited for a moment as Rick watched his father say something to Pavel. The boy nodded. Hunt turned to Rick.

"You're not coming?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Hunt shook his head. "Things to do. Places to be. I'll make sure Pavel gets home safely."

Rick nodded and walked up to Pavel. "Pavel, about your sister. Noronov killed her because of me. Because she helped me ..."

Pavel shook his head suddenly looking wiser and older than his years. "Not your fault. Noronov kill her anyway. He kill them all when he finish with them." He pulled back his shoulders. "He dead now. He not hurt anyone now." Rick could see the tears in his eyes as he held out his hand.

Rick took it. "Thank you Pavel."

"Thank you Mister Richard Castle. One day you write story about Pavel ..." Rick smiled. "... but you make me hero, not bad guy. Deal?"

Rick smiled. "Deal." He pulled a small roll of paper from his pocket and handed it to Pavel. "I thought you could put this to good use." Pavel's eyes went round as he looked at the roll of banknotes.

Digger stuck his head out of the window. "We need to go … pronto!"

Rick turned to go but Hunt called after him. "Rick?" He smiled. "You did good son." Then he turned and ran for the gates pulling Pavel with him.

.

If the first explosion had made the residents of the local town twitch their curtains, the next series of blasts brought them out running out onto the streets. The passengers of two cars speeding away from the castle turned to look out of the window in amazement.

Digger glared at Minefield who threw his hands in the air. "I know you said subtle but you saw all that stuff. The guy had the entire contents of the national armoury in his basement It's not my fault if it made a … bit of a bang!"

"A bit of a bang?"

"Minefield!"

Utterly drained, Rick sank into his seat and listened to the team's banter as they headed to the airport. Perhaps after his next Nikki Heat he would start a new series of books. He glanced at Spike who was looking at him in open admiration. "Helluva party Sir!"

Rick nodded and smiled. "Mighty fine shindig!"


	20. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

The apartment was all in darkness as he quietly let himself back in. He placed his cases on the floor and slipped off his shoes trying to not to disturb the peace. Without switching on the lights he made his way to the bedroom and gently pushed open the door. He found himself smiling as he gazed on the sight he had dreamed of all the way home. He stood leaning against the door-frame for a moment committing the image to memory.

Kate lay on her side her arms wrapped around his pillows. She was wearing one of his tee-shirts that swamped her slim body. It rode up around her thighs exposing her long legs. Her hair fell loosely over her shoulders and Rick caught a faint trace of her scent. As the first streaks of sun lit the Manhattan skyline she stirred slightly, a deep sigh escaping from her lips. "Ri...ck!"

Rick smiled and unbuttoned his shirt as he gently lowered himself onto the bed. "Hey," he whispered expecting her to open her eyes. She moaned slightly. Rick peered at her closely. Her eyes were still closed and he could see them moving beneath her eyelids. Rick's smile turned into a wicked little grin. Gently he blew on her cheek. She moaned again and snuggled tighter into the pillow.

"Oh … babe!" Rick's eyes widened in surprise and his wicked little grin spread as he realized she was dreaming. About him! He leaned down and gently nibbled a sensitive spot at the base of her neck. Kate made a lovely purring noise. "Oooo." He trailed a finger up her thigh. She quivered at his touch. Her moan was positively erotic. Rick's grin turned to a smirk as he lowered his lips to hers. She shifted position and slid an arm around his neck. "Oh Rick!" Suddenly he felt her jump. He pulled away. Kate's eyes sprang open. "Rick? Oh my God! Rick! " She stared at him disbelievingly for a second then she threw her arms around his neck. "You're back. You're back."

"I'm back."

Kate clung to him for a few minutes then finally pulled away leaning back to look at him, her eyes searching his face to make sure she wasn't dreaming and that he really was there. "Is it over?" she asked quietly.

Rick smiled. "Yes."

"Good!" He could see the relief in her face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

Kate frowned. "That was what you said last time. Take your clothes off!"

Rick arched an eyebrow. "Why that's very forward of you Katherine!" He drew her name out seductively. "You … er … want me to continue whatever it was I was doing in that dream?" he asked suggestively as he removed his shirt.

Much to his astonishment a deep blush spread across her cheeks. "What dream? I wasn't dreaming," she added quickly.

"Oh, yes you were."

"Was not!"

Rick pulled off his pants and socks and tossed them onto the chair with his shirt before placing a hand on the mattress next to her hip. "Oh … Rick! Ohhh!" he mimicked.

"I was not doing that," Kate insisted trying her best to look outraged. She poked him in the shoulder.

Rick tried not to laugh. "Ow!" he whined.

"Which reminds me ..." She poked him again.

"OW, what was that for?"

Kate tried to glare at him but the tears that filled her eyes make Rick's stomach clench. "In the event of my death?" she accused.

_Ah, the envelope!_ Rick gave her a half-smile. "I had to make sure that you'd be okay if things didn't work out." She opened her mouth to speak but Rick rolled onto the bed and gathered her into his arms holding her close. "But it did work out and now it's fine. I'm fine and I'm back." Relenting, Kate tucked her head into his shoulder and sighed glad to be in his arms once more.

She ran her hand up his arm. Suddenly she stiffened as her fingers touched the bandage around his biceps. She sat up. "What's that?"

Rick grimaced. "Nothing..." She pushed up his sleeve her eyes widening at the sight of the swathes of white gauze wrapped around his arm. "It's just a scratch," he lied wondering whether he could prevent her finding out that he had a dozen stitches in it. Kate leaned over and flipped on the light. Castle winced. "Kate!" Kate's jaw dropped as her eyes fell on the large bruise in the centre of his stomach courtesy of the Noronov's blade. She gasped and opened her mouth to speak. "We're not doing this," he reached out and switched off the light and then rolled over flipping her onto her back. "No … more … talking! It's over." He said firmly silencing any protests with his lips. "Now what was I doing in that dream … this? … or this? … or this?"

Kate purred.

_Got it!_

.

_Two weeks later_

Kate wandered out of the bedroom wearing one of Rick's favourite tee-shirts to find Rick making coffee. He had to admit she looked better in it. The morning papers were scattered in a pile on the table. She sat at the table and shuffled through them, her eyes taking in the headlines. _"Arms cache discovered." "Multiple arrests made in aid on illegal arms trade." "High-ranking officials questioned in relation to illegal arms imports."_ Kate raised an eyebrow. It looked something big had gone down. But it was Saturday morning and her day off so she ignored them and pulled out one of the tabloids. She smiled at the photograph on the cover. "Wow, you made the front page." She glanced at the article. "Richard Castle … philanthropist ..."

Castle huffed as he hunted in the fridge for the milk. "Makes a change from Richard Castle, philanderer!" He slammed the door and caught Kate staring at him, the guilt written on her face once more. He smiled as he poured some into a jug and heated it. "What have I done this time?"

Kate opened the magazine and found the article, her eyes flicking quickly through the text. "It seems you ..." She stopped. Her eyes widened. "... donated the proceeds from an out of court settlement to charity." She looked up at him. "Oh Rick ..." Rick poured the milk and drew the spoon across the top. He carried her cup over to her and set it down. Kate's eyes filled with tears as she saw the little heart drawn in the foam. He sat next to her. Kate raised her hand to his face and caressed his cheek. "You're a good man, Richard Castle."

Rick leaned in and kissed her. "And don't you forget it!" He grinned at her cheekily making her smile.

A loud ring made them both turn. Rick went to answer the door. Kate waited wondering who it could be at that time in a morning. She heard Rick thank whoever it was and close the door. He came back carrying a large box. "What's that?"

Rick shook his head, clearly not expecting anything. He pulled a knife from the block and split the tape. He pulled away the paper hesitating for a moment as it revealed a slightly fire-damaged rosewood box. He pulled the rest of the paper away and opened the box. A small card sat on the top of the swords.

"_Thought you might appreciate these. Wish I could have seen you in action."_

Rick smiled. Kate frowned. "What does it mean, 'seen you in action'?"

"Er … nothing ..." Kate glared at him not believing him for a minute. Fortunately he was saved by Alexis who came bouncing down the stairs.

"Morning! Who was that?" She spied her Dad and Kate looking at the box. She skipped over to the table.

"Swords?" She put on her serious child-parent look. "Dad! Really more swords? Haven't you got enough?" The front door opened and Martha swept in.

"Morning darlings, I've brought breakfast." She flounced across the room brandishing a large paper bag. She spotted the wrapping paper giving them a curious look.

Alexis ratted him out. "Dad's been buying more swords."

Martha rolled eyes and leaned over to look in the box. "Duelling swords? Really Richard? What on earth do you need those for?"

Alexis giggled. "Yeah, can you just imagine Dad fighting a duel?" Martha's laughter echoed through the loft clearly indicating what she thought of that idea.

Rick could feel Kate still eyeing him suspiciously until her phone buzzed informing them that they had a murder. He smiled to himself as he closed the box and looked at the three most important women in his life.

Things were finally getting back to normal.

It was over.

.

A little over four thousand miles away Yuri Tchenkov was closing up shop. He locked the door, threw the bolt and turned round the closed sign. He paused to straighten a pile of books smiling to himself that the day's business had gone well. He looked around his bookshop with pride. As he did so he caught sight of a man staring at the window display. Yuri shivered, suddenly glad that he had already closed for the day. There was something about the man that made Yuri nervous. It wasn't the completed shaven head or the goatee beard or even the misshapen nose but the look of intense hatred on the man's face. He was glaring at the selection of books by international authors that Yuri had put out that morning. In fact he seemed to be staring at one in particular. A book by an American author called Richard Castle.

**THE END**

A/N : Thank you to all who have followed, favorited and reviewed this story. Thanks to everyone who took the time to leave a review, good or bad! I've got to admit some of those guest reviewers are tough cookies to please! And now it is time for me to bow out gracefully, having had a fascinating adventure in Castleland. It has been an interesting experience!

Special thanks to my regular reviewers : GeekMom, southerngirl1, zombiede, wendykw, HinnaMalinois, , DetectiveBen, saifos, Beledi1113, endeavour252, FoxSearchlight, jackiezha44, Manxkid, Thecastlefan101, Girlfromdk, prdnanny, momandwife33, Castlereader and of course my good friends tlh45 and smuffly! Your messages of encouragement have made a world of difference.

Mahala


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